Under Cover of Darkness
by rose.delicate
Summary: Anastasia Steele is a woman with a particular set of skills, tasked with a mission to take down Seattle's underground slave trade. But the organization is bigger than even she would have guessed, and those involved are the most dangerous of men. Will she be able to make it out alive? AU starring Ana Steele and Christian Grey, among other familiar faces. Will be rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**_The Request_**

 _"_ _Human trafficking throughout the country is reaching unmanageable levels. The northwest white slave trade has been growing more rapidly than ever. We've tried to keep tabs on known traffickers, on any shipments coming in and out of the coastal towns, but disappearances are rising. It is getting out of hand and soon we are going to have full on public outrage unless we do something. We've been investigating a few leads in the Seattle area, but all of our intelligence is limited…the trafficking ring is larger…much larger than we would have thought possible and there is no way of knowing who is involved. We need….an inside man, so to speak."_

 _"_ _And that's where I come in."_

 _"_ _Yes."_

 _"_ _You want me to go in as a buyer? Or.."_

 _"_ _No. We have attempted to infiltrate via the purchaser route before…it is a tiered organization, very secretive, and impossible to penetrate from the buyer's side... we simply do not have the resources."_

 _"_ _So you need me to go in as a captive."_

 _"_ _Yes, Miss Steele."_

 _"_ _Is there an extraction point?"_

 _"_ _Yes Miss Steele. We have a man on the inside, on the buyer's side, first tier, he's new but trusted by a few key members we've identified. Your task would be simple. Get in. Get an insider's view of what goes on behind the scenes, where, how, and most importantly who is involved. The ring has been growing the past 6 months ,our man would wait for you…purchase you at the earliest opportunity and get you both out."_

 _"_ _Good…Because there's only a thousand and one ways that plan can get royally fucked…" She laughed, but there was no humor in her voice._

 _"_ _We can't guarantee your safety, Miss Steele. Our man is good though. He will get you back out. But we need you. We need someone with your skill set. On the inside. We need to bring these sons of bitches down. Hundreds of young men and women go missing each year in the Washington area alone, thousands in the North West greater. We know that this group is behind many of them, we just need the proof. And we need someone who can think on her feet. Someone who can get herself out if our extraction effort fails. We need you."_

 _"_ _I understand."_

 _"_ _Will you do it?"_

 _"_ _This wont be easy."_

 _"_ _No. It wont be. You must do nothing that will link you back to the Agency. They cant know we are involved or it puts every victim at stake. And we will never get another chance at this. "_

 _"_ _I understand."_

 _"_ _If anything goes wrong at the extraction. I'm sorry…But we wont be able to risk going in after you. You would be completely on your own. It's a lot to ask, but I have every faith in you Miss Steele. Do you understand?"_

 _"_ _Yes."_

 _"_ _Please, Miss Steele. We need you."_

 _"_ _I'll do it."_

* * *

 _ **The Bait**_

Anastasia Steele stared at her reflection in the mirror. Tonight was the night. After weeks of preparation and investigation, tonight would be the night she went in. Anastasia knew the risks. She understood the danger and she knew she was perfect for this job.

Her dark brown hair had been styled into a high pony at the crown of her head. Her already pale skin was painted and contoured, and she wore too much eye shadow and mascara, the darkened colors causing her bright blue eyes to pop in a way that was all about being noticed. She knew she looked young, it was part of the allure she was aiming for when she pulled on the tight, off-the-shoulder, black dress. It was sexy but demure, and the tight fabric showed off her fit, lithe body. She complimented the dress with a pair of sturdy, gold pumps.

She was to go in, unarmed, with no identification, no contacts, no weapons, and nothing that could link her back to the agency. Her only piece of high tech equipment was the contact lens she wore in her right eye- it was designed to be worn for up to six weeks, a microscopic camera within it recording everything she saw visually when her eyes were open. It would be used by the agency to identify and target the criminals involved within the organization. Seattle was a hub for human trafficking, and it was Anastasia's job to bring down those who would prosper from the misery of others.

According to the intel she had received, Midnyte, a hip, if aging dance club near the center of the city, was a hot spot for kidnappings related to the trafficking ring. Anastasia was to go in, let herself be seen as bait, and get herself kidnapped in order to infiltrate. Once in she would be able to get a first-hand look at the inner workings of the crime ring; those involved, those in charge, the scope of the operation. Her partner for this mission had infiltrated on the buyer's side months ago. She knew little about him aside from the fact that he had infiltrated as a low-tier buyer , able to purchase but without any knowledge of whom he would be dealing with aside from the lowest ring of enforcers. He would extract her from her captivity in the guise of purchasing her as his own sex slave. The thought made Anastasia's lip curl. Her…owned. She scoffed at the idea, But she knew that the idea wasn't that farfetched for the hundreds if not thousands of men and women that were being taken by this group and sold into lives of servitude and pain. She _would_ put a stop to them.

She was ready. It was time.

* * *

 _ **The Club**_

The club was crowded and the music was loud, the base thumping in that way that caused Anastasia's heart to beat in time to the music. She had a job to do, but she had to admit, she enjoyed dancing, allowing her body to move to the music in ways designed to entice and excite. She wasn't in it for the attention, of course, she was supposed to get noticed. She made a point of never dancing near or with the same person for more than the course of one or two songs. She needed to appear unattached, alone. She was alone, after all. She continued to move, scanning the room for anything suspicious. For all intents and purposes, it was a normal club. Normal music, normal patrons, normal bartenders and bouncers, nothing that screamed Sex Slaves, Inc. But she knew her intel wasn't wrong, and she'd done her own research on this place and others like it. The easiest way to stay hidden was to be something else. This place was a dance club; but it wasn't. It was a harvesting point for fresh, young slaves. They were careful about who they took, no one that would be noticed, no one that would be missed. In a city like Seattle, there were plenty of unattached young anonymous people, with little or no friends and family, perfect victims, no muss, no fuss. And no one to raise the alarm. No one except the occasional land lord pissed at the tenant who skipped town and stopped paying their rent.

Anastasia had been dancing for just over an hour and she was getting hot. She made her way over to the bar, swinging her hips to the music as she sashayed and waited her turn. In a matter of seconds the bartender noticed her and asked her what she was drinking. She ordered a vodka soda, and leaned up against the bar as he handed it to her. She sipped it and looked out at the crowds

"I haven't seen you 'round here before, what's your name?" The bartender grinned at her, shouting over the music. She continued to sip

"It's Ana!" She answered, completely ignorning the triteness of his come-on and giving him a mega-watt smile, the kind she knew made men swoon.

"Now I know I would have noticed you before, what's a pretty thing like yourself doing dancing all alone?" He flirted voraciously, taken in by her charms. Anastasia had practiced for this.

"I just moved here!" She shouted over the music so the bartender and anyone who might be eavesdropping could hear. "Cool club!" She grinned again, going for that starry-eyed too-young routine that she knew made her appear both alluring and vulnerable."

"Well you came to the right place! Name's Rick! You need anything you just holler, got it?" He winked at her before hurrying off to the other end of the bar to wait on a group of college boys. Anastasia finished her vodka soda and her surveillance of the club: roped off VIP area near the stairs, back room located just behind the bar, front and side entrances, bouncers at each location. The main floor was primarily dance room, with booths lining the back walls. A hall off to the left and near the back held the restrooms. She eyed the VIP area, a couple of balconies overlooking the main dance floor. The bottom and top of the stairs were manned with bouncers, and a circular booth held a rather imposing looking dark-skinned man. He was bald, but had a neatly trimmed goatee. He sat by himself watching the dancers below, occasionally, he gestured for one of the bouncers to approach so he could tell him something in his ear. Ana eyed the man and made a mental note of the bouncers who were closest to him, a foreboding-looking brunette with sharp dark eyes, and another bald, tanned man who seemed to be members of the first man's entourage.

"Hey there beautiful…what's your name?" One of the frat-boy-esque club goers approached her. He sidled up next to her at the bar and pushed his body against her side. "Can I buy you a drink?" She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This "bro" was not one of her targets. And she didn't feel like wasting her time with him.

"No thanks! I'm good!" She grinned holding her empty vodka soda out and pretending to sip it.

"Awww…come on baby, don't give a guy the cold shoulder like that. Do you want to dance?" He tried again, leaning in even closer to her as if he was about to nuzzle her neck. Again, Ana resisted the urge to kick him in the balls.

"No _thanks"_ She spoke a little more forcefully this time, narrowing her eyes at the young man in front of her, sizing him up as a jock-type cool kid, used to getting what he wanted.

"Whatever, stuck up cunt!" He leaned away from her, huffing, "Your potato face isn't worth my time anyway." He stalked off and Ana felt herself wanting to actually laugh out loud. Potato face? That was a new one. She kept her composure though, opting for looking shaken instead, she was supposed to have low self esteem, supposed to be meek.

"You okay, sweetie?" It was Rick, the bartender. He'd circled back around to check on her . She looked up at him as if she was surprised he was checking on her.  
"M-me? Yeah. Yeah I-I'm fine….Th-that guy was just being a jerk, you know?" She gave the bartender an uneasy smile. He gave her a sympathetic one in return.

"Can I get you anything else, hun? On the house?" He asked, concern evident in his voice. Ana nodded, receptive.

"Another vodka soda?" She asked, making her voice sound a little higher and unsure. Rick the bartender smiled at her, setting the glass he'd been cleaning down on the bar with a flourish.

"One vodka soda, coming right up!"

Ana took the opportunity to look around the bar again, a few more guys were leering at her, obvious in their intent. A gaggle of girls were drinking together near the middle of the bar and eyeing her critically. A nervous looking guy was leaning against the wall near the hall to the bathrooms, looking as though he were trying to work up the courage to approach her. None of these people were her targets. She hoped this would not be a wasted night. She needed to infiltrate sooner, not later. She needed as much time on the inside as she could get before her extraction point. They were all counting on her. She couldn't let them down. Ray had taught her better than that. And she wanted to make Ray proud.

Rick the bartender returned with a fresh vodka soda and bottle of water. The water had a secondary Mydnite label on it, advertising the bar. He pushed both drinks toward her.

"One vodka soda for the pretty lady, and one water." He smiled at her kindly "I don't want you to forget to hydrate." He gave her a wink. She nodded at him in thanks, and downed her vodka quickly. It was time to get back on the dance floor and make herself noticed. She had to pick up her game . Rick the bartender was right though. It wouldn't kill her to hydrate as she worked, especially with as hot as the crowded dance floor could get. She cracked the bottle of water open, tossing the twist-off cap to the floor as she took a long swig.

She finished her bottle of water half way through the next song, swinging her hips to the rhythym and working her way toward the hall that led to the restrooms. She wanted to toss the bottle and she wanted to investigate the back rest-room area. She thought maybe she should dance a while longer, but her stamina was waning and she really wanted to get off her feet a minute. She hadnt been out there too long, but the floor was feelin ga lot more crowded and claustrophobic than it had earlier in the evening.

Ana stumbled a little as she made her way toward the bathroom of the club. She felt woozy, and tired, and like she'd had far too much to drink. But she hadnt. She'd had two-watered down vodka sodas, and one 20 oz bottle of water. She knew exactly what was happening. She'd been drugged.

Ana felt herself weavign through the crowd until she made it to the back wall and the hall that led to the bathrooms. She'd planned to investigate the area, but she was having a difficult time focusing. She stumbled again and into the chest of the nervous-looking man from earlier, the one who'd been too embarassed to approach.

"Hey! Are you okay?" His tone indicated he was pretty sure she was not. Her vision was blurred but she managed to focus on his face; concern was etched into his features. "Maybe you should go home, huh?" He added when she tried to form a coherent sentence in response and only managed a slurred

"nahhh 'mm fine..."

"You two okay? She with you, bro?" It was the overly-concerned voice of Rick the bartender from before.

"Uh - no man, I dont know...Hey miss...er.." the man currently propping her up was at a loss for what to do. Ana wanted to tell him to mind his own business. She was working here. But she was so tired and her limbs were increasingly feeling like lead. Whatever she'd been slipped, it was fast acting.

"Bring her back here, I can call her a cab."

Ana felt herself being moved from one torso to another, but her conciousness was slipping fast.

"Hey thanks man...She gonna be okay?"

"Yeah I'll make sure she gets some water before the cab getse here. Thanks boss! Ana, hun, its Rick, i think you might have had a bit too much okay?

She felt herself being pulled forward, but her eyelids were too heavy to keep open any longer. She had done it. She was going in.

This was the last thing she thought before her world went black.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Hello all - I know I shouldnt be starting up a new story while I am still working on The Fall of Grey - but this one was rattling in my head and demanded to get out. Please let me know if its something I should continue working on in tandem with my other fic - It's going to be quite different, very AU with a strong, kick-ass Ana and a dark scenario. It might take a few chapters for Christian to make an appearance but rest assured I have big plans for him in this as well. Updates will probably be slow to start because I am mainly focusing on my first fic. But if this works out I will make sure to focus efforts on updating this in tandem.**_

 _ **thank you! :)**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Hello all and thank you again for trying this AU story out. This chapter gets a little darker though i tried to keep it not so graphic. Christian wont make an appearance for at least 2 more chapters, but rest assured he will play a big role in the overall story :) Please let me know if you have any suggestions or critiques, they help me shape the story and in general help me to be a better writer. Reviews as always are very much appreciated! Thank you :)**_

* * *

Anastasia woke abruptly, her head pounding. She scanned her surroundings quickly, it looked like a basement of some sort, She was bound by what felt like zip ties with her hands behind her back but her feet were free. And she wasn't alone. There were 2 others bound in similar positions and they were all inside of what looked like a large dog run cage.

She was not the first to have awoken, another young woman, with short, wavy golden-blonde hair was staring at her, wide-eyed and fearful. Ana's first instinct was to comfort the girl, let her know that everything would be alright. But then Ana remembered why she was here. And she couldn't do that. It made her heart hurt. But she had no way of helping the other three girls in the cage without blowing her cover, so she could not in good conscious let the blonde know it was going to be alright. It made her feel sick. She tried to push the thought from her mind, focusing on her current situation. She should be scared, so she quickly adopted a look similar to the blonde's widening her eyes and taking the chance to look around. Her mouth was not gagged at all so she took the opportunity to strike first.

"Wh-where are we?! What's going on?" She croaked. Her throat was dry so her voice cracked when she fist spoke. The blonde shook her head vehemently

"Shhh… I-if they hear you, they might come back!" She whispered, clearly terrified.

"They? Whose they?" Ana whispered back, wanting to glean as much information from the girl as possible, even though she was sure she would soon find out first hand.

The blonde shook her head again, too afraid to speak a second time. The third girl with white-blonde hair and far too much eye makeup groaned and began to shift on the floor, her body stretching as she came around. Her green eyes blinked open rapidly, and Ana saw first confusion, then fear begin to set in.

"Wha?! Where…" She began. The first blonde shushed her vehemently.

"Be quiet! They'll hear you!" She hissed. The ashen-haired girl looked at her in confusion then turned her head to Ana. Ana saw the moment the girl realized she was bound, the moment panic set in, and her heart clenched for the poor thing. She needed to divorce herself of these feelings if she was going to get through this. She silently scolded herself as the ashen-haired girl spoke.

"Wh-what's going on? I-Is this some kind of practical joke?" She asked. Ana shook her head sadly, saying nothing, allowing her eyes to convey fear and the seriousness of the situation.

"Oh God…" The ashen-haired girl whispered, catching up to the situation at hand. "C-can either of you get your hands free? I-I think I might if I just…" She was writhing her hands, the zip ties were too tight to slip through but the poor girl was trying. Zip ties like these were extraordinarily easy to break. Ana could have broken her bonds easily, and even showed the others how to do so as well, but she couldn't take that chance. She had to remain hidden, to appear just as weak and frightened as the other girls. Ana was more interested in why they had all been left ungagged. Were their captors that confident that they wouldn't be heard if they screamed for help? That helped her narrow down where they were. More so, with the lack of windows and general dankness of their surroundings, Ana was certain they were underground somewhere, perhaps under the very club from which they'd been taken.

The door on the far side of the room opened and two men walked in. The first girl Ana had spoken to immediately cowered and began to cry, Ana decided to follow the blonde's lead, forcing herself to tear up and shrinking back. The third girl was trying to remain stoic , trying to assess the situation, though she was so far out of her depths.

One of the men Ana recognized. It was Rick, the bartender from the club. That furthered her theory that they hadn't been taken far and were most likely underneath the nightclub from which they'd been snatched. He looked grim, and professional. The second man, possibly one of the bouncers from the club as well, though Ana did not specifically recognize him, was all grins and intimidation.

"Well well well!" He crooned. "Richard my man, I think you may have outdone yourself this time." The second man with the bouncer physique clapped Rick on the back. Rick had the decency to look uncomfortable. Ana noticed he was not looking her nor the other girls in the eyes.

"Liam do you have to do this every time." She heard Rick mutter. The second man, Liam laughed out loud at that and clapped Rick on the back again.

"Don't be so modest, Richard! Look at these beauties. You got an eye for 'em man. And you do such a good job- all three of 'em ain't got anybody out there that might be lookin' for 'em… Ain't that right girls…?" He addressed the three of them properly for the first time. The blonde sniffled. The ashen-haired girl glared back at him silently. And Ana gulped audibly and shook her head in denial. Though the man was right, her background info and cover would have shown her to be on her own and her testimony to Rick the night before would have helped them with that assumption.

"Yeah, that's right." Liam answered his own question, grinning at them like the proverbial cat who ate the canary.

"Boss man wants me to initiate the three of you." Liam continued. "See Richard picked you, but it's my job to make sure you...measure up, so to speak." He chuckled, and Ana knew exactly what he meant, though the other two girls looked terrified and confused. Rick was still standing next to him looking anywhere but at them.

"Now...who do I start with?" Liam mused allowed. The blonde girl whimpered loud and tried to scoot back away from the door of the cage. Liam smirked at her. The ashen-haired girl stayed in her corner, glaring at him and still wriggling in her binds. She was fiery. Ana whished she could help her. But it was not possible. _Needs of the many, Annie...Needs of the many._ Ray Steele's words echoed in her mind and she used them to stabilize herself.

"Richard, you got a favorite? " He goaded the man, but Rick shook his head.

"Come on, Liam, just get it over with." He muttered. "Ive...I've got work to do." Liam chuckled.

"You're always such a spoilsport...alright...I chooose..." He approached the cage, Ana watched him apprehensively. He grabbed the blonde by her hair and yanked her forward "Goldilocks, here!" He announced. The blonde screamed. And Ana needed to take the attention off her if she wanted to help at all. Even if it was only to prolong the inevitable.

"Please!" She cried out, "Please l-let us go then?! Please I promise I wont tell anybody. Please! " She begged.

"Shut up, Princess. You'll get your turn soon enough." He turned to go and the blonde looked at her with wide eyes. Ana made a decision then. With the door open and with Liam holding onto the blonde by her hair, Ana darted forward as if to escape. Liam cursed and released the blonde who scrambled away from him. Ana let the man catch her by her hair and pull backwards. She screamed as if in a panic and bucked in an attempt to get away from him.

"Ho ho!" Liam laughed, "Couldnt wait your turn could you princess? Alright then! You can go first!" He was angry and he was gripping her hard. Rick shook his head and fled the room and Liam shut the dog-run cage, locking it again and hanging the key on the hook near the entrance to the basement. They were confident sons of bitches, that was for sure. The blonde was in tears as Ana was dragged backwards.

Ana made a show of resisting as she was dragged into the next room, crying out, begging Liam not to hurt her, promising them that her parents had money, all the lies she knew he'd ignore.

Liam was a brute of a man and he had no trouble dragging Ana into the adjoining room. The room was a small 10 by 10 room with painted cement floor and clinical white walls. There was a drain in the middle of the floor, and hooks hanging from the ceiling in various locations as well as a few eyelet hooks drilled into the cement flooring. There was a medical table off to one side and a cabinet of tools in the other. Ana knew what they had planned. This was the breaking room – where they would torture new recruits into submission before they sold them.

Ana allowed Liam to maneuver her into the middle of the room. He cut the cable tie on her wrists with a box cutter before rebinding them in front of her with nylon rope. He forced her arms above her head and looped the rope around one of the lower hanging hooks in the ceiling. Once he released her Ana was stretched, arms to the ceiling, barefoot. If she stood on her toes she could alleviate the pressure in her arms, but the position was not comfortable either way and she didn't want to stand on her toes for too long and risk exhausting her legs. This was a starting session. Ana knew what Liam was trying to do, what he wanted, and what he would look for in her reactions that would tell him he was doing a good job. She knew all this because she'd seen it before. She'd experienced it before. There was nothing this brute could do that would truly hurt her, Ana just needed to give him what he wanted.

"P-P-Please ! P-Please don't hurt me. I-I can p-pay y-y-you P-please let me go!" She stuttered the bullshit she was sure countless girls before her had stuttered. Liam was unmoved as she knew he would be. He said nothing, instead letting her fret as she alternated from standing on tiptoes to not, trying and finding no way to alleviate the pain of being hung from her wrists completely.

She was still wearing the dress she'd worn the night before, but she knew now that she was bound that there was no way it was coming off in one piece.

She was correct. Still saying nothing, Liam approached her, he stared into her face and lifted the box cutter again, clicking it open and watching her reaction as he revealed the blade. She let her body tense up, her lower lip tremble. She whimpered.

"Slaves do not wear clothes unless their Masters wish it. " He offered by way of explanation. Saying nothing else but reaching forward to tug at her tight fitting dress, pulling it taut and slicing it open with the box cutter. She flinched back and he shook her. "Stay still. Boss doesn't want you to bleed so don't make me cut you." He snapped. She stilled. He finished cutting her dress from her and then wasted no time in cutting off her bra and panties. She was left nude, hanging from the ceiling, her clothes destroyed in a pile on the floor. Liam stepped back, seemingly admiring her body. Ana flushed, and Liam let out an appreciative chuckle.

"Very nice…" He murmured and maneuvered around behind her to the cabinet. Ana knew what was coming next, She heard the man fumbling with the cabinet. After a few minutes she heard his heavy footfall circling back around her. He was holding what Ana recognized as a soft-leather katana-whip; short for better accuracy. It would hurt, sting like hell and, especially if she wasn't used to pain, make her beg him to stop, but, if he knew how to use it, it would not break her skin or leave too many marks.

"Do you know what this is?" Liam asked, showing her the short, leather implement. She shook her head fearfully. He smirked.

"This, little one is my "Yes Sir," whip." At her confused expression, he continued. "You see. You might not want to say yes Sir to me right now…but after a few strikes with this baby I am betting you will have a change of tune. Do you want to see if I am right?" She shook her head in the negative

"P-please don't hurt me!" She sniveled, knowing she sounded desperate. He smirked at her again.

"We'll start simple." He smiled almost congenially at her. "Do you understand?" She shook her head again and he circled around to her back side. She heard the katana whip slice through the air before she felt it slice against her back soundly stinging. She cried out, rattling the hook she was tied to in her attempts to move her body from the source of the sting. This seemed to please Liam.

"Let me try again." He said, circling around to her front again. "Do you understand." She nodded this time, making sure to look hesitant. He raised his hand again and the whip bit through the air and struck her soundly across her middle this time, making her cry out again.  
"Do you understand?!" He repeated the question and this time Ana answered properly

"Y-Yes! Yes Sir! Please!" She shouted. Liam smiled. He thought he was doing well. She could tell he liked the effect he was having on her from the bulge in his pants. She wondered if that would be part of her "training" as well. She hoped not, but she didn't have high hopes.

"Very good…" Liam praised her, and he approached, using the whip to slide up her body. Ana let herself shiver and Liam gripped her by her hair, pulling her head back harshly.

"Next question. Liam continued, stepping back from her.

"What…is your name?" That was a simple question, and Ana knew it was too simple. But she decided to fall for it anyway.

"A-Ana…M-My name is Ana. Anastasia S-Steele. P-Please! Please let me go I-I won't tell anybody-"  
"Wrong answer!" Liam snapped and before Ana could react, the katana whip was landing hard against her breasts making her jump backwards.

"What is your name?" Liam asked again. Knowing she'd just given him her name without a fight, she tried again.

"M-My name i-is A-Ana S-Sir P- Please don't hit me again"

"Better. But still the wrong answer" Liam announced and this time Ana braced herself for the strike. It landed against her side this time with an impact strong enough to feel like it would bruise.

"What. Is. Your. Name." He let the whip slice through the air with each word, but he did not strike her. He was convinced that her fear was growing with each slash of the whip through the air.

This time Ana made a tactical decision not to answer. Shed given him her name twice. Now it was time to play dumb. He circled around her and this time the whip landed twice, in quick succession on her ass. She let out a cry and made a show of bucking in her binds.

"P-please! Sir! I-I don't understand!" She let herself wail.

"You will answer when you are asked a question, do you understand, Slut?" He snapped. She nodded, He struck her with the whip again and she keened.

"Do. You. Under. Stand?!" Four more strikes, these lighter than the others but without giving her time to recover. He was good at this. He'd clearly had a lot of practice.

"YES! Yes Sir!" She shouted letting herself break down into a sobbing mess. The pain was not much more than stinging to her, but she knew a normal person, one who would never have been subjected to this kind of treatment before, would be nearing their breaking point. Liam seemed to know it too for he dropped the katana whip and approached her.

"Shhhh….Shhh….there's my good girl." He soothed, his hands gentle as he stroked her. "Shhh….You don't need to fight this little one. "The faster you give in the less you have to hurt…do you understand?" His voice was soft, but still with that hard edge to it. She knew he expected an answer.

"Y-Yes Sir.." She answered obediently and he smiled at her again.

"There's my good girl." He said again, stroking her softly, petting her hair. This too was a tactic, start with pain, then give pleasure or comfort, make the victim completely dependent on you, on pleasing you. The carrot and the stick approach. Simplistic but effective.

"Now" He stepped back and picked up the whip again. He spoke softer this time. "What is your name?" He asked. Ana sniffled softly and shook her head, letting her eyes show him her confusion.

"M-My name, S-sir?" She whimpered, as if the idea of being struck again terrified her. It was enough to make Liam throw her a bone.

"Your name, little one, is whatever your Master chooses to call you. Anastasia Steele is dead. You best forget about her if you want to survive." His tone was sharp. He stood directly in front of her.

"Now…Do you. Understand?" He demanded. She knew how to answer this, "

"Y-Yes Sir.." He smiled.

"I love my "Yes Sir" Whip." He smirked at her triumphantly.

"Now. What is your name?" He repeated the question, leaning in so that his hot breath was against her ear and throat. She shuddered in response.

"A-Ana - I- I mean erm…" Ana let herself falter. Giving up one's identity was not something one did so easily and she knew it. He tsked at her and the whip came down hard across her chest then both sides and the tops of her thights, four strikes in all.

"I can do this all day sweet cheeks." Liam warned her. She was sweating, her arms hurt and her body was stinging a bright angry red from the welts.

"P-please...m-my name is A-Ana...Anastasia...P-Please let me go... I-I wanna go home." She begged pitifully. The katana whip across her breasts again was her reward, and when she jumped back he struck again, an upwards motion this time that struck between her legs. She let herself shriek. Liam was at her side again, brushing tears away and stroking her face. He was showing her how much control he had and how little she had, it was all very psychological. Ana felt worse for the girls in the other room. She hadnt gotten their names, they would not be able to handle this without breaking and there was nothing she could do to help them. Her body was stinging all over and she knew Liam knew she was on the verge of giving in.

"I think I'll call you Snow White." He spoke, not unkindly. "Now, little Snow. I'm going to leave you to think on that a while. When I come back, you can show me if you've learned, or we can start again."

With that, Liam turned on his heel and exited the stark white torture chamber. Ana took inventory of her surroundings. There was a camera in the upper left corner of the room. They were watching her. She played to that. Allowing herself to cry softly and keeping her head bowed. The stinging all over her body had dissipated, it was not much, as he had been instructed to not break skin. She made a show of alternating between tip toes and hanging from her wrists for about 15 minutes before she decided that it was enough and just allowed her body to hang as if exhausted. She stopped most of her movements then and waited.

After an hour or so, she heard footsteps and knew Liam was returning. She kept her head bowed.

"Wake up, little one. It's time to show me what you've learned." He was sharp, authoritative this time. Ana let her self whimper, but did not look up.

"Lift your head when I speak to you. Show some respect, you bitch." He snapped, much harsher this time. Ana lifted her head, keeping her eyes downcast the way she knew he would want her to. She wanted him to feel as thoush she was submitting without even knowing how.

"Very good...you're already ahead of the game, little one. When you look at your Master you will not look him in the eye unless directed to do so. Do you understand?" He was still holdign the katana whip.

"Y-Yes Sir." She whimpered. She saw him grin. He thought he was doing such a good job. His hard-on from earlier was gone. He must have taken care of it himself, clearly he had been instructed not to touch her sexually, at least not yet. That was something.

"Very good. I've brought you some water, I am sure you are thirsty." He drew her attention to a bottle of water, one of the Midnyte-logo branded waters from the night before. She pursed her lips and swallowed as if desperate for a drink. In truth, she was pretty thirsty. She nodded her head in affirmation.

"Let's see what you've learned so far..." He circled her slowly, whip in one hand, water in the other.

"What. Is. Your. Name?" He ground the words out, he was frightening, she'd give him that. Now it was her turn.

"M-my name..." She hiccuped and sniffled "I-I...my... M-my name i-is wh-what you say it is Sir." She stuttered and croaked, making a show of trying to stand on her toes to alleviate the tension in her arms. In truth her arms had already gone numb and were not a chief concern to her at the moment.

"Very good...Very good Snow White. You've done very well." He cooed at her, hos tone taking on a sickly sweet cadence.

"Would you like some water now little one?"

"Y-Yes please, please Sir" She was almost fooling herself with this drivel. She could tell it very much pleased Liam. She'd passed. He was next to her now, tilting her chin up and holding the bottle of water to her lips.

"Drink, little one. " He commanded and she obeyed. gulping down the water. She needed to keep herself hydrated and fed when she could, keep her energy up. Obey and make it through to the extraction point. Once she was out she would be able to fight her way back in with all the power of the agency behind her.

She drank almost the entire bottle before Liam pulled it away from her lips gently. She hung her head as she felt him reach up to unhook her bound wrists from the pully in the center of the room. She slumped into his chest. She was pretty sure she could stand but she had to appear completely beaten at this point. He held her against his firm chest and stroked her hair again. He undid the ropes on her hands and she knew he felt confident enough in his ability to keep her overpowered that he didnt need to bind her again. This would work in her favor if she needed it to.

"Sleep now, little one." He instructed softly, scooping her up into his arms and carrying her back out of the white room and into the room with the cage. The other two girls were staring at them with wide eyes. Ana saw them clearly before her vision began to blur.

Liam had drugged her. Again. She felt herself slipping under. It had to have been a stronger dose that laced the water this time because she could hear him speaking but could not make out the words. Her arms felt like lead and he lay her out on a small twin mattress outside the cage. The last thing she saw was him approaching the cage and the two girls before she let herself be taken over by the darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Sorry to disappoint but it looks like at least one more chapter before Christian makes an appearance. I promise he's coming soon :) In the mean time, please let me know what you think. Also I shopuld have mentioned before but this entire story comes with gigantic trigger warnings so please read with caution :) As always reviews and comments are greatly appreciated. Please let me know what you think :):)**_

* * *

When Anastasia woke again she was feeling far less sluggish, her head was hurting . She was unbound and still on the mattress outside of the cage. She'd been naked when she passed out, but now a thin piece of satin robe was tossed over her body. She quickly put it on as she sat up and got her bearings.

Ana wondered how long she had been out. They had definitely upped her dosage of the drug, and it was impossible to tell how much time had passed underground.

The dog-run cage was empty. That was curious. More curious was the fact that the other girls were no where to be found and Ana had been left seemingly unbound and unattended. Why? What had happened while she had been out? Were they really that confident in her inability to escape? Or perhaps something had happened and they hadn't expected her to wake up this quickly. Had it been quick? Again, Ana had no real way of knowing aside from the circumstantial evidence she was compiling.

She knew she was not completely unattended. There was no way they would leave her to her own devices like this if she were. Sure enough, a surreptitious glance upwards showed two hidden video cameras, on in the vent and one above and behind her in the upper back corner of the room. She stood on somewhat wobbly legs. Her body felt bruised,, but she would heal. There were only two doors to the room; the door through which her captors had first entered and the door to the torture room. The door to the outside world was closed, most likely locked. But the torture chamber's door was wide open. Ana approached hesitantly.

Inside, the white-haired girl was hogtied. Her eyes were wide and red-rimmed, and her mouth was stuffed with an over-large red ball gag. She was broken and beaten bloody all over and currently left on the exam table. She must have been in extreme pain. At the sight of Ana she keened pitifully. Ana gasped. The other blonde was nowhere to be seen.

 _What had_ _ **happened**_ while she had been out?

Ana stepped forward into the room, toward the girl warily.

The ashen-haired girl's eyes widened even more and she squealed into her ball gag. But she wasn't looking at Ana. Ana knew Liam the bouncer had returned. She took two steps back and ran right into the man's chest. _There he was._

Ana let out a short scream as the bouncer grabbed her from behind, pulling her against him tightly.

"Decided to join the party, Snow? You going to give me trouble now, too?" Liam hissed. He was angry, beyond angry. " Ana had to play her cards right. She didn't struggle against him.

"Wh-what?! N-No! N-No Sir, P-Please, Sir!" She felt Liam relax his hold a fraction, some tension leaving his body.

"There's a good girl." He clipped, but he was dragging her backwards and out of the room, the ashen haired girl looked at her with such broken eyes. _What the fuck was going on?_

"P-please Sir! Wh-what happened?" She chanced a question. L:iam, possibly forgetting himself, or else just not caring answered.

"That cunt in there tried to orchestrate an escape. Blondie had to be put down, and that one in there will pay for it. You are going to meet the boss man. Come on."

He continued dragging her through the main room and to the outer door. As Ana had predicted, the door was locked but Liam unlocked it deftly and manhandled her through and down another short corridor. Lining the corridor there looked to be a bathroom, a small kitchenette area and a breakroom lounge. At the end of the corridor was a closed, heavy oak door.

"If you make me look bad bitch, I will make you pay" Liam hissed in her ear and Ana knew he meant business. He opened the door.

* * *

"Master Tyrone. I have the brunette here for you Sir." Liam had taken on a deferential tone Ana found curious upon entering the large, ornate office. _Master Tyrone. So Liam had a Master too? Or was it all formality?_ Ana filed this information away to be investigated further later.

Tyrone was the dark-skinned man that made the VIP area above the club his home the night Ana had been taken. She now recognized Liam as Tyrone's right hand man from that night. Tyrone was an arrogant man, he stood with his chest puffed out, oozing false bravado. Ana knew his plans had not gone accordingly. If the blonde had indeed been "put down" and with the other girl beaten the way she was, Ana knew she was the only kidnapee he had left to sell at this point. She had been the only one to show promise…that thought killed her. She could have helped the other two escape. This facility was no fortress and they were woefully unprepared for resistance. But she hadn't. And now it was too late.

He stared her down and Ana averted her gaze, playing the docile captive. She wanted to be approved for auction, she needed to get there to make contact with her partner. The auction house was where she would get the real scope of this slave ring.

"Leave us, Liam." Tyrone instructed. The body-guard seemed to want to protest, Ana noted, but he did as he was told, shutting the door behind him. Tyrone addressed her then.

"Disrobe." He commanded. Ana made a show of hugging the robe tighter against her small frame, still looking down.

"Would you like me to call Liam back in here and have him do it himself?" He taunted. Ana shook her head vehemently.

"I didn't think so. Now. Disrobe." This time, Ana carefully undid the tie on the robe and let it slip from her shoulders. She was not embarrassed by her nudity, but she crossed her arms over her breasts as if she was self conscious, standing in the center of the room stark naked for him to appraise.

"Arms at your side." Tyrone insisted, and Ana lowered her arms reluctantly.

Tyrone circled her slowly, humming to himself in appraisal.

"Rick did a good job of picking you, girl. The others…he may have fucked up, but that's not entirely on him…" He mused, but Ana got the distinct impression he was talking at her more than to her. She stayed silent, head bowed as he finished his appraisal. She let herself shiver..

"You may put your robe back on." Tyrone nodded to the discarded satin and Ana did as she was told, synching it tightly around her slim waist.

"Kneel." Tyrone commanded. Ana knelt quickly, making her movements gawky and uncoordinated. She made a meal out of not knowing where to place her hands, crossing them, then uncrossing them, putting them at her side, then on her knees, then at her side again before deciding on her knees. Palm down. She saw Tyrone smiling at her.

"I see Liam hasn't gotten to proper slave posing as part of your training yet. That's alright little one, we have a few days yet before the auction."

"A-auction?" Ana questioned, she wanted more information. She let her eyes widen as if in fear and clamped a hand over her mouth as if she hadn't meant to speak, bowing her head low again apologetically. Tyrone tsked his tongue at her.

"You should know better than to speak out of turn by now, girl." He snapped.

"i-I'm s-sorry Sir..P-Please forgive me." She simpered. "P-Please don't p-punish me I-I didn't mean to." She knew she probably just earned herself a lashing, but she wasn't too concerned about that. Tyrone laughed.

"Stop your fretting, little one." He chortled. "No one's going to be punishing you right now. Slip ups happen. And you will learn eventually your Master's or Your Mistresses' tolerance for such infractions." She peered up at the man, gauging the truth of his words.

"Now..." Tyrone stood in front of her. "tell me, little one. What is your name?" Ana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She would play along. She chewed her bottom lip, hesitating before answering,

"I…I h-have no name b-but what you give me, Sir?" She purposefully made it sound more like a question than a statement. Tyrone laughed at her, smiling broadly. Ana wanted to punch him right in his smiling face.

"Very good, little one. You _are_ a fast learner. That's very good. And…how old are you?" He questioned.

Knowing her back story Ana replied with ease.

"I-Im…n-nineteen, S-Sir…" She answered, knowing she could pass for that age and that her paperwork would state the same if they looked into her at all. Tyrone nodded appreciatively…

"Tell me now girl….Do you like to suck cock?" Ana cringed at the man's vulgar words. She shook her head no. "How many have had you girl?" He demanded again. Ana had prepped for this as well. She wasn't an idiot. And she knew the weird predilection the typical male had for virginal young girls.

"I-I've n-never…" She started, then stopped, sniffling as if she was about to cry. She's piqued Tyrone's interest. She could tell.

"Never what…girl?" He prompted for her to continue,

"I-I've never b-been w-with a man before Sir. She lowered her head.

"A woman?" Tyrone pressed. She shook her head.

"You mean you are a virgin, sweet thing?" He continued, and she could hear the excitement in his tone. She nodded. Tyrone clapped his hands together, his mood brightening immediately.

"You just doubled your value, little one." He exclaimed, and he was all grins and self-satisfaction. "With the other two bitches out of commission, you're all I've got to offer this quarter, and you just made yourself very valuable." He grinned wider then his face darkened and he approached her rapidly. He took her by the chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"You wouldn't be lying to me now, would you, girl?" His tone had shifted, now darker and much more threatening. She shook her head rapidly.

"N-No Sir!" She stuttered. She was pretty sure she knew what was coming next, and that was fine with her if it meant she wasn't to be assaulted prior to getting out of here.

"Good.." Tyrone grinned again. "Then you won't mind me checking for myself."

Ana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This part she figured was coming. And no. She wasn't a virgin in the strictest sense of the word. But, a little plastic surgery could fool a brute like Tyrone any day of the week, and she'd prepped for all parts of this mission. She allowed him to lift her up off the floor. He was gentler than Liam, though still very much holding himself in command over her movements. He coaxed her over to his desk and bent her over. Ana felt the heat rushing to her cheeks and knew she was blushing. That was good for her cover, but humiliating, she hated that she could not control her blush. She braced herself.

Tyrone's fingers probed up the short robe, and she held her body stiff, rigid. She wanted to appear as uncomfortable and mortified as possible. Tyrone murmured soothing calming noises into her ear and she knew her posture and stance were having the desired effect. He probed. She cringed. He withdrew, suddenly back to smiles.

"Good girl," He crooned, "You weren't lying… That's very…very good." He beamed at her, gesturing for her to return to her kneeling position. She did so and Tyrone called Liam back into the room. Apparently the hulk of a man had been waiting just outside the door for instruction.

"Liam...Its lucky you started with this one. She's virgin stock. ought to fetch a high price on that fact alone, coupled with her looks and behaviour. Do not be rough with her unless you have to. Take her. Feed her. And begin her training in proper slave etiquette. Do not fuck her. We will leave that to her knew Master or Mistress when the time comes. Do you understand?" Ana chanced a look upward at Liam, he was still radiating tension and ander, and he didnt seem pleased by Tyrone's words. He bowed his head slightly and agreed.

"Yes Master." Liam sulked. Tyrone grinned.

* * *

Ana sat on a small pallet on the floor in the corner of the kitchnette. She was watching Liam who appeared more and more aggrivated as he fixed her meal. Clearly his culinary skills were lacking, for lunch appeared to be some Campbell's soup in a can heated over the stove top. He heated the soup and poured half of it into a small bowl Ana assumed would be hers. She wasnt hungry. But she knew she had to eat. Liam turned to her then, a frustrated look crossing his features.

"The boss says you're a virgin. But I don't believe it." Liam sneered at her, looking her up and down. Ana wanted to sneer at him, but she cowered instead saying nothing in response. He made as if he was going to grab her and she flinched, which caused him to laugh. Ana watched him like a hawk, eyeing their surroundings in the little kitchenette. There was a butcher's knife within reach. But if she killed him, there would be more consequences than she could answer for and she would never make it to the auction house,.

"The boss wants you fresh and ready for sale…but he doesn't understand the value of a well-trained whore like I do. " Liam all but hissed at her. She saw his movements and knew his intention even before he pounced but she made no move to defend or push him off her until the balance of power had shifted in his favor.

Liam had her pinned to the floor. She turned her head away from him and he licked up the side of her neck, his tongue leaving a sticky trail in its wake. Her resulting cringe was only partly for show, the man was disgusting, and Ana wanted nothing more than to choke him into oblivion. But she waited. She couldn't make it this far only to blow her cover now. She'd known the risks.

The soup Liam had been preparing for her was still sitting on the counter, along with other pots and pans, a coffee maker, and some cutlery. There was a tin trash bin as well. From her position on the floor there was nothing within reach, but if she raised herself up there was a small skillet that would work as a blunt weapon just fine. She noted the items in the kitchenette, and its proximity to Tyrone's office, where she knew the "boss man" was still working, and quickly formulated a plan.

Tyrone had her pinned beneath him awkwardly, using his free hand to stroke her cheek before moving down lower, cupping her breast through the thin material of the satin robe. His hand began to slide lower still.

'Oh, HELL no.' Ana thought to herself. This guy picked the wrong girl to molest.

If Liam thought he could get a little action on the sly he had another thing coming. Now was the time to act. Ana focused all of her strength into bucking the man off. It caught Liam off guard and in the next instant, Ana's right fist had swung around to catch the man in a perfect upper-cut, sending him flying backwards in surprise. Ana let out another faux terror-filled scream as she quickly scrambled away from Liam, knowing she had to move quickly for this to work. She couldn't afford to take the man out head on, one punch could be classified as a lucky shot, but if she threw many more, her training would become obvious. She scrambled toward the counter top as Liam rebounded.

"You little bitch!" Liam shouted, blood dripping from his mouth where he had been hit. Ana wasted no time, knocking over the pots and pans of the countertop, sending them clattering against the floor noisily. She could have caused the man serious injury with the skillet, but opted agaisnt that, instead going into defensive mode and working to make as much noise as possible. She knocked the coffee maker and cuttlery to the floor and ran into the tin trash bin, sending it clattering. She screamed again at the top of her lungs as Liam lunged for her. Liam tackled her back to the floor, anger flashing in his eyes. Ana squirmed underneath him, making as much noise as she could.

"STOP! PLEASE!" She shrieked, inwardly sighing with relief when he heard heavy wood door open and close, quick footsteps hurrying towards where they were. Excellent, she had made enough noise to get Tyrone's attention and, if she knew the way things worked around here as well as she thought she did, Liam was about to get some punishment of his own.

"Liam! What the FUCK do you think you're doing?!" Tyrone's voice boomed from the entry to the kitchenette.

Liam immediately scrambled off Ana, looking angry and embarrassed at having been caught in direct violation of Tyrone's orders.. Ana took the opportunity to play up her role as terrified victim, practically sobbing as she half-crawled, half-ran behind Tyrone for protection, clinging to the man's legs, frightened, practically hyperventilating— _damn she was good._

"Explain yourself!" Tyrone demanded of Liam.

"That—That little bitch tried to run!" Liam lied through his teeth, "I caught her and then she started screaming! She completely lost it! She even fucking punched me! Got a lucky shot, too… the little cunt! Why, I ought to—" Tyrone stopped Liam's explanation with a wave of his hand and a pointed glare. The man then turned and kneeled down to face Ana, trying to calm her with gentle hands. Ana allowed herself to be consoled.

"Shh….there, there, Little One… It's okay, shh… Now, tell me what happened…" Tyrone's eyes darkened as he caressed Ana's cheek, "Did you try to run?" Ana shook her head fervently.

"N-NO! No, no, no! I-I…I… He… he…" She cried, stuttering pathetically, knowing that her point would get across clearly. "H-he tried to… a-and I-I…"

"Shh…shh… As I suspected… do not fear, you will not be punished for your behavior, this time." Tyrone soothed, brushing Ana's hair back and wiping away her tears. He stood up, facing Liam once more. "Do not lie to me again, Liam. Did you try to fuck her?" Liam was silent, not looking at Tyrone, instead glaring at Ana for getting him into trouble. She cowered for effect, inwardly smirking.

"Listen to me Liam," Tyrone's voice was deadly cold, "If you try to touch her again, I will cut your dick off myself! If you want to fuck somebody that badly, we've got a perfectly disobedient pet waiting for you in the other room! There's no need to go and spoil perfectly good merchandise." Ana winced, hating once again that she could not help the poor girl who'd tried to run. Not if she was to do her job.

"Sorry…" Liam apologized begrudgingly. Tyrone dismissed him and the bouncer stalked off, anger radiating off of him.

Tyrone knelt down again to Ana's level, looking into her eyes. Ana did her best to remain teary-eyed and vulnerable, trembling slightly for effect.

"Jesus, you _are_ a pretty one. Damn…it's too bad… Are you calmed now, Little One?" Ana nodded shakily, sniffling miserably, "That's good. But…Little One, even though you were in the right this time, soon your soul purpose in life will be to please your new Master or Mistress. And undoubtedly your owner will desire that body of yours…you understand that, don't you?" Tyrone asked softly. Ana whimpered and nodded that she understood, eyes glossy with tears, still seemingly shaken. Tyrone shook his head in frustration, looking away from Ana's eyes.

"Gods, girl. What are you trying to do to me?" He mumbled to himself. Ana let herself look confused, as if she had no idea of her allure or manipulations. Tyrone sighed, "The auction is in three days. You will stay with me until then, and then I will take you to Trey to be prepared for sale. Do you understand what that means?" Ana knew this was her chance to get more information. She shook his head. Tyrone sighed again,

"Liam really doesn't explain things very well anymore, does he?" Tyrone helped Ana to her feet, "Come…perhaps I can help you to understand better your role from now on."

Ana was led into Tyrone's office once more. She automatically went to kneel in the center of the room but Tyrone stopped her. Directing her towards an L-shaped couch in the corner of the room.

"You've had quite a fright, Little One, You may sit on the sofa while we speak."He informed her. She nodded hesitantly and moved to sit on the sofa again, Again she decided to pretend she did not quite know what to do with her arms, crossing them first then uncrossing them and placing them at her sides before finally deciding to rest them in her lap. Tyrone chuckled softly at her as he took his own seat. Across from her.

"You know…" He commented conversationally as Ana chewed her bottom lip, it was supposedly a nervous tick, she found it made men focus on her lips, distracting them, she often used it to her advantage in situations like this., "That was quite the punch you threw at poor Liam, I bet the poor man still doesn't know what hit him. Frankly, 'I'm surprised you had it in you. Little One…" Ana's heart-rate had begun to increase the moment Tyrone began speaking, but she was doing a good job of hiding it.

"If I am completely honest, I am surprised you didn't try to run when I was busy chastising that moron," Tyrone continued and Ana felt herself tense, wondering where exactly he was going with this. "If I was a lesser man I would say you were probably just in shock. Or too afraid…Mind you, you wouldn't have made it far if you _had_ tried to escape…but I don't think you didn't run out of fear." He eyed her, as if gauging her response, and it took everything Ana had in her not to flinch under hiz gaze. She remained passive, planning her defense if it came to that.

"Do you know why I think you didn't run, Little One?" Tyrone asked her. And shook her head. Tyrone moved to her side of the couch in a fluid gesture and suddenly he was right next to her.

"I think you didn't run for a very specific reason." He reached out to stroke her cheek. Ana was tense, but Tyrone didn't seem to pick up on it, _Did he know? Had he figured her out? How?_

"I think you didn't run…because you crave to be dominated… you want it." Tyrone grinned as if he'd solved the world's most challenging puzzle, Ana inwardly sighed in relief, shaking her head in denial. She was safe for now…he hadn't figured her out. Her cover wasn't blown. If anything, she was too convincing… She bit back a smile and continued to shake her head as if in horror.

"You say no…but your eyes tell me yes." Tyrone murmured, his voice husky as he continued to stroke her cheek, "They tell me that you are secretly excited to be the object of so much desire….to be sold…to be craved… to be used." Tyrone's hand was soft against Ana's face, his eyes suddenly filling with regret,

"It's a pity…you are just _his_ type."

 _His Type? Who's type? A slaver?_

"Wh-what do you mean?" Ana asked, before she could stop herself.

"Finish your sentences with either Sir or Master!" Tyrone growled dangerously, slapping Ana's already bruised cheek harshly.

"S-sorry, Sir." Ana amended, her cheek burning.

"Very well, " Tyrone nodded his approval at her apology, "and it is best that you do not know what I meant by my previous statement."

"Wh-What's g-going to happen to me?" Ana pressed, still bleary with tears, "Sir?" She added, not really wanting to get slapped again.

"Now that all depends on where you are going, Little One." He stroked Ana's hair affectionately, his eyes betraying what he really thought. Ana inwardly thanked whatever spirits were up there that he wouldn't really have to find out first-hand,.

"A-are you…in charge, Sir?" Ana asked, taking his previous answer for permission to continue her questioning. Tyrone shook his head.

"Of you? Yes…for the moment. But that will only be for a few more days. And no… I am not the High Master. He is the high Lord and organizer of the auctions and events. You may meet him yet, Little One." Tyrone explained softly. It was just as Ana had suspected. There _was_ a master-mind behind the scenes. If he was taken out than the rest of the organization would most-likely crumble around him. Tyrone's eyes narrowed slightly; he could see that Ana was thinking… never a good sign in a slave.

"Very well then, I've answered all the questions you need to know. I think it's best that you go and rest now. I will not have you restrained, but just remember…. If you _do_ try to run… than you'll wish you had never been born before I am through with you." Tyrone moved off the couch as he spoke and Ana watched him go to the mini-refrigerator near his desk. He pulled out another one of the Mydnite labeled water bottles.

"Here" He handed it to her. "Drink this. All of it." He commanded when he noticed Ana's hesitance. She knew she was being drugged. She hated it. But she felt confident enough that no harm would come to her for the time being so she opened the water and drank half of it. She paused but at Tyrone's glare she quickly downed the rest of it. He nodded his approval. She hated whatever it was they were drugging her with. It was exhausting and it made her limbs feel like lead. She'd only just come off the stuff and now she felt its effects hitting her once again. She slumped back on the couch, Tyrone stood silently, watching her as her head lolled to the side. These bottles definitely had more of the drug in them than the ones they used inside the club.. Once she was out of here they would need to run full tox-screens see just exactly what kind of chemical base they were using on their victims…But for now…all Ana could do was succumb once again to the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Managed to get this update out sooner than expected but I wanted to give you a heads up tha tthe next chapter may take a while. I have part of it written but work has been crazy lately and it will only get crazier in the next couple of weeks but I will try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can :) In the mean time please let me know what you thought or if you have any ideas on what you'd like to see :) As always, thank you for reading!**

* * *

Ana breathed in deeply as she awoke. She was terribly hungry, having been fed only four small meals in the three days she had been captive. Fortunately, today was the last day she would have to put up with this life. It was auction day, and Tyrone would be taking her to the extraction point. It was there that she'd be able to glean information as to the inner-workings of the organization before making it back to the agency.

It surprised her actually; apart from her initial beating, she was escaping relatively unscathed. All she had to do was pretend to be frightened and utterly obedient and, for the most part, she was left alone. After Liam's initial attempt to molest her, Tyrone had taken a keen interest in keeping her safe and 'training' her in what was to be expected of her as a slave.

Of course, that didn't stop Ana from hearing the tortured screams of the ashen blonde girl; Liam seemed to have taken keen enjoyment in taking all of his frustrations out on the poor girl. Ana couldn't block out the girl's miserable sobs at night. Nor could she help having an utter sense of failure when those sobs finally stopped two nights later.

She did not have time to dwell on the matter, however, for Tyrone had taken it upon himself to inform Ana of all the duties that she'd be required to perform in her "new life. Ana had listened intently, appearing shocked when she deemed it necessary and demure at other times, playing up her role as innocent; for Tyrone had divulged some interesting information about the importance of innocence in selling a "fresh slave."

 _"_ _Do you know..._ _why_ _I would not allow Liam to touch you?" Tyrone had asked the day after Ana's encounter with the bouncer. Ana shook her head, intrigued to know where Tyrone was going with this, "It is because I did not want him to extinguish that light in your eyes. That sparkle, behind those baby blues of yours is what's going to make me my money." Ana cocked her head to the side in confusion, apparently not understanding, "You, Little One, have never been taken against your will before. You fought Liam… that shows that you haven't lost it. A slave that has lost their innocence is like a car once you have driven it off the parking-lot. Do you understand?"_

Ana had also learned, in her stay with Tyrone, just how the man was able to take his victims. The bartender was his inside man, scoping out possibilities in the dense crowd of the nightclub. He would then engage the possibilities in conversation, making sure they were alone, with few or no friends to miss them; As she'd expected that was how they avoided missing-persons reports. They also took victims in batches, typically a month to two weeks before pre-designated auction dates that were not set up by Tyrone or any or his people. The night club was one of many extraction points throughout Seattle and its surrounding areas; and Ana had gleaned from overheard conversations while she knelt in Tyrone's office, that victims were sometimes coerced into selling themselves to pay off familial debts, or enticed through sexual fetish clubs under the guise of the slavery ring being a 24/7 "scene," only to discover after the fact that they'd been duped. There were also specific "modeling agencies" that brought in 'fresh meat' as Tyrone had put it. But Tyrone seemed to enjoy his snatch and grab technique the most.

 _"_ _Call me old fashioned, but it's really the most honest, don't you think, Little One?"_ He'd said to her when he'd caught her listening once, a shit-eating grin plastered onto his dark face. She'd cowered and he'd stroked her as one would a frightened puppy.

Tyrone was a chatty one. She also had names, names and locations to go on when she got back to the agency. Tyrone was a low level member of the organization, but he spoke of others; of a playboy-like trust fund baby named Vince who was higher up on the food chain but just barely—Tyrone didn't seem to think highly of Vince; of a Mistress he called Viola, who was apparently well-tempered and easy to get along with; of another Mistress named Elena, who had a temper but was apparently very close to the high Master of the organization. Ana pieced what Tyrone told her together with what she already knew about Seattle's socialite society and knew she had multiple suspects she would be able to use on the outside. This coupled with whatever she found at the auction house meant she had achieved her goal- she was going to bring these fuckers down.

It was time. Tyrone had fed her, allowed her to wash up, and now he was standing over her, with an almost apologetic smile and a bottle of the drugged water.

"You know the drill, Little One."

He handed her the water and looked at her expectantly. She drank the whole thing. This was it. She was going to the auction house. She'd done it…The the two girls she'd failed here would not have died in vain. That thought comforted her as the drug overtook her for what she knew would be the last time.

* * *

When Ana next awoke she found herself squinting into hot bright make-up chair lights. They hurt and she used the little strength she had to turn her head to the side so as not to be continually blinded by the hot white bulbs.

Tyrone was standing over her, talking passed her to someone, Trey she assumed, the "artist" Tyrone had spoken so fondly about. She tried to focus on their conversation, but it was difficult for her to drag her mind out of the drug-induced haze long enough to garner any meaning. That was, at least, until she heard the words that made her heart skip a beat.

"CIA….? Or…FBI….? "

 _What were they saying about the agency? Were they on to her? Shit. Shit, shit shit._

 _"_ No idea who he worked for, actually. And there may be more of them. That stupid-ass hothead Vincent shot him in the head before we could interrogate him. Took it personal that the agent-dog used him to get here, I think. Hyde will be dealing with Vince after the auction but for now it's business as usual. Just make sure to keep your hood up. You should be fine back here but there may be more of them out in the audience chamber- Just be careful. Code names will have been provided – per usual, Master Blue. " Ana looked up in time to see the man she assumed to be Trey wink at Tyrone, as Tyrone pulled on a deep blue cloak that completely shadowed and obscured his face.

 _Shit…Fuck!_ Were they talking about her contact? They had to be talking about her contact. He was the only other person assigned to this particular mission. And if what they were saying was true- then he'd been stupid enough to blow his cover and get himself killed. Which left her completely on her own with no extraction point and no control over the situation.

They noticed her for the first time since she'd awoken. Tyrone caressed her hair once and pat her on the head. She felt infantilized and it made her seethe.

"You be good now, Little One….Be good and you'll be…you'll be fine." Tyrone murmured to her, and she felt a wave of fear wash over her. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her…and she knew…she knew she would most certainly not be fine. Tyrone left then, nodding his good bye to the make-up artist before taking his leave without a further glance at Ana. She felt abandoned, and she felt disgusted with herself for feeling that way. She needed to get out of here. Trey soothed her as well, picking up on her agitated state. She hadn't realized it, but she'd attempted to get out of the chair and was beginning to regain the motion in her arms.

"Now stop that." Trey snapped gently. "Im going to make you look beautiful, but I cant do that if you keep squirming like that. He produced a small syringe filled with a small amount of some kind of amber liquid. He took her arm and before she could stop him he stuck her with the syringe. _Fuck!_

 _"_ There there…." He murmured, "this is just to get you to relax a little bit, sweet thing. " Trey turned to fuss with some cosmetics on the counter behind him before he turned back to assess Ana once more.

"My my but you are a beauty, girl, you know that?" He whistled in appreciation and Ana gave him her best glare. It must have looked pretty pathetic for he laughed at her and patted her head again dismissively. Ana turned her attention to the mirror in front of her. This was the first she had been able to get a real look at herself in days. Her hair was clean at least, as Tyrone had allowed her to bathe before they left. But her hollowed cheeks showed her hunger and there were circles under her eyes from exhaustion despite the fact that she'd been unconscious for many hours. Trey noticed her frown.

"There, there, hun… Don't worry, I'll make you gorgeous, you'll see." Trey soothed, turning the chair Ana sat in so that she could no longer look in the mirror, a bottle of foundation in his hand. Trey took his artistry very seriously, a determined look on his face as he applied the makeup, adding just a hint of rouge to Ana's cheeks before pausing to admire his work.

Ana felt ridiculous as Trey continued, tilting Ana's head back and applying mascara to her lashes. It made Ana feel like a doll. Eyeliner was next. Trey demanded that Ana remain utterly still as he applied a thin line of the jet-black liquid to her eyelids. Glitter was dabbed onto her lids as well. A liquid ruby-red lipstick was then painted onto her lips. It was amazing how lethargic Ana was feeling; as if she couldn't even move her arms, let alone put up any kind of a fight. And the chair she was sitting in was so…soft…and so comfortable… She felt….good. This drug was different…she didn't feel like she was going to pass out…she felt soft, and fluffy. A giggle escaped her lips…fluffy? She was being silly. A person couldn't feel fluffy…

"There we are… now, what to do with that hair." Trey smiled patronizingly at her when he was finished with her makeup, as if Ana were a child, or an invalid. She returned his smile…it was an automatic response. What was _wrong_ with her?

"Ahh….I know…" Trey murmured to himself, moving around behind Ana. And, within twenty minutes, Ana's long hair was styled into gentle, wavy curls that framed her face and fell down her back.

"Beautiful…" Trey admired, turning Ana back towards the mirror so she could look at herself once more. The difference was shocking. Her face was absolutely flawless, like a porcelain doll's; her skin was as white as the moonlight except for the rouge on her cheeks, her lips were a deep, shiny crimson, and her wide blue eyes were outlined in black and charcoals, the glitter making them pop.

"You're positively delicious," Trey grinned at her in the mirror, his hands on Ana's shoulders, "I know just how to dress you, too." Trey bragged, leaving Ana in the chair while he disappeared behind a wall to what must have been the wardrobe. He came back carrying a beautiful royal-blue satin kimono.

"It matches your eyes," Trey explained, laying the outfit out on a table and coming back over towards Ana.

"Now…let's get you dressed," Trey smiled obscenely. Ana smiled back.

She felt like dying.

* * *

Anastasia was scared. The drug was wearing off and panic was bubbling up inside of her. She hated feeling scared. She hated feeling like she was not in control. She was always in control. This was supposed to be a smooth operation. How the _fuck_ had her partner been caught? The idiot. Now he was dead, the plan was fucked, she was captive and about to be sold and there was nothing she could do to get out of it. Whatever drug they were pumping into her system was highly potent to her, it kept her feeling sluggish and dazed, and she could not focus on anything other than being compliant. At this rate she could barely stand, let alone break free of any of her captives and escape. She'd been dressed in the satin kimono, and a soft black leather collar had been fastened around her neck. The kimono was short and barely fell over her ass, leaving her long, lean legs exposed. She was wearing nothing underneath It was utterly demeaning.

She was being held by a stage attendant. She could see from the side lines a young boy, maybe no more than 15 or 16 standing, nearly nude on the auction block. He looked terrified. The auctioneer was working the crowd over and the boy looked as though he were struggling not to cry. Anastasia would not be able to save him. She would not be able to save any of them; she would not even be able to save herself at this rate.

 _Fuck._

"SOLD" She heard the auctioneer cry out triumphantly and the crying boy was dragged by his collar from the stage. Anastasia felt her own collar tugged and she realized a little belatedly that it was her turn.

On the stage, the bright hot lights nearly blinded her as she gazed out into the hooded crowd. Even if her partner hadn't fucked things up, it would have been impossible to differentiate faces from this view point. The auctioneer was talking, leading her around the stage like a trained monkey.

"A natural submissive! She's had minimal training and will obey your every command, _a virgin_ – you can mold her to your specifications and make her the perfect pet! Shall we start the bidding for this virginal beauty at say, $50,000! Do I hear $50,000"

"$50,000 to the Mistress in the front row. We have $50,000 to I hear $100,000? This pet could be yours, do a little twirl, hunny. " The auctioneer yanked on Anastasias collar, forcing her to spin in a slow circle on the stage. If she could have she would have shot him right then and there. Instead she twirled and focused on not tripping over her own feet. She was feeling beyond uncoordinated.

"We have $100,000 from Master Yellow, do I hear $150,000?

"$200,000!" A cool, calm voice shouted out over the crowd. The auctioneer bowed slightly as a figure near the back of the room stood. His face was covered by a slate grey cloak, but everyone seemed to know who he was. There was a reverence in the room. Anastasia felt her skin prickle.

"T-Two hundred thousand from Master Grey…going once- going, twice—"

"$300,000!" Another voice rang out, a deep, growl of a voice. There were gasps throughout the crowd Anastasia tried to ascertain the owner of the second voice but it was impossible with the hot white lights obscuring her vision. The auctioneer's mouth dropped open, and he was struck silent.

"$400,000" The first man, the one in the grey cloak, fired back, a sharper edge to his voice. Anastasia strained to see their faces, but it was hopeless. Her vision was blinded by the lights and she was still woozy from whatever drug was currently pumping through her system.

"$500,000." The second man quipped back and the murmuring in the crowd increased tenfold. Something was happening, though Anastasia did not understand what. The first man strode forward and the crowd of hooded figures parted until he was in the center of the room.

"One Million!" He announced and the auctioneer cried sold immediately.

"Sold for a crisp one million dollars to Master Grey. Very good Sir, Very good!" He clapped his hands jovially and the tension in the room began to dissipate. The auctioneer still seemed tense and Ana could not ascertain why, exactly. Who was this Grey character really?

Before she could dwell too long on her own thoughts, Anastasia was pulled by her collar back off the stage and out from under the lights. She took a deep breath of air. The fog was beginning to clear and her limbs were feeling less like lead. The attendant at the side of the stage coaxed her over to a waiting area and sat her in a chair. He pulled her arm and before she could stop him, inserted yet another syringe full of that horrid amber liquid into her flesh. It took effect immediately and she slumped into the chair even further.

If they continued to drug her this heavily, she knew she would never be able to resist enough to get herself out of this mess. And there was no way the agency was going to risk any more operatives on any kind of rescue mission. She was truly and royally fucked.

She could not move her limbs, she could only watch as others in her predicament were led around back stage and out of the club , all of them, they were all doomed, she'd failed every one.

Ray would have been so disappointed.

If Anastasia was the type to cry, she would be crying right now. As it was, she felt water pooling in her eyes and she managed to blink it back, stopping the tears from falling through sheer force of will.

Another girl was set in the chair near her, a pretty young brunette with wavy long locks that fell past her shoulder blades. She too looked like she was in a haze. The attendant seemed content to leave her alone and let her slump in the chair in much the same way Ana had. The girl lolled her head to the side in Anastasia's direction and, upon locking eyes with her; the girl gave her a wide, stupefied grin. She looked vacant, somehow, as if her mind had left her body. It was unnerving. Anastasia was taken aback. Did she look like that too?

Ana felt another presence approaching them. She could feel eyes boring into her but it took her such effort to turn her head enough to see who was looking at her. It was one of the hooded figures from the front of the auction house. Ana focused on clearing her vision to get a better look. It was not the grey-hooded figure who'd purchased her, this man wore a dark crimson hood shielding his face. He seemed content with his safety and anonymity backstage for a moment later "Master Red" lowered his hood and Ana got a better look at him. He was broad, his wide face was unshaven. His reddish hair was pulled into a pony tail and looked as though it had been styled with grease. Bright blue eyes were glaring at her. He was smiling, but it didn't reach his eyes. He approached her and the other girl, getting right in Ana's personal bubble. She committed his face to memory, in case the contact lens had stopped working and with the belief that she was going to make it out of this hell hole and when she did she was going to take this slime ball and everyone else down. She had to believe that, it was the only thing keeping her sane at this point.

The man regarded her coolly. With lightning fast movements, his arm shot out and his hand fisted her hair, pulling her head up and backward painfully. He turned her head from side to side. She wanted to strike him. She growled at him and a smile reached his eyes for the first time.

"My my…does the kitty have claws? " He asked, and Ana swallowed. His eyes were keen, and interested and if he worked out what she was she was dead for sure. She purposefully shrunk back from him and he smirked.

"What I'd like to do to you…." He mused again, "I would have liked you and my new pet here to be sisters…" He turned his attention to the other brunette, the spaced-out girl in the seat next to her. He leaned in and sniffed the girl's neck, licking up along her jaw territorially. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she moaned. He smiled, pleased by her response. "I think I'll call you Leila.." He grinned again, petting the girl's head before slapping her violently and turning his attention back to Ana..

"You…I would have called you Lola….cute right? Leila and Lola? If that prick Grey hadn't decided to fuck me over like that out there…I would have popped your cherry good, girl." The man oozed perversion, and his eyes were alight, seemingly with the possibilities he was imagining. Ana attempted a glare but she wasn't sure she was managing it. He seemed to catch her meaning because his amusement turned to anger in a flash, and his hand shot out again squeezing her neck lightly. He leaned in to her slowly, and whispered in her ear,

"Have you ever felt what it's like to be dying, cunt? " He sneered, increasing the pressure on her windpipe. Ana wanted to struggle, she wanted to claw at him and release herself. But she could not make her limbs work. She was terrified. It felt like this man was trying to crush her windpipe, to seriously damage her. Where were the attendants? Was no one watching? Or did no one care?

"Hyde! Drop her!" The voice from before practically boomed. Master Red - Hyde – released her neck immediately and Ana gasped, her wide eyes looking first up at him and then to the new arrival. It was him…the one who'd purchased her.

The man in the grey hood apparently also felt it was safe enough back stage to remove his hood, and Anastasia was greeted with one of the most beautiful faces she had ever seen. He had a strong jaw, and sharp, grey eyes, his copper hair tousled a bit from being underneath the cloak. He seemed, familiar, somehow, though Anastasia could not work out why in her inebriated state. He glared icily at Hyde who scowled at him in return. Hyde broke eye contact first, stepping away from Ana toward the other girl, the one he's nicknamed 'Leila." The girl squeaked in surprise when Hyde grabbed her by her hair then giggled drunkenly as he half walked, half dragged her away, retreating and clearly pissed.

The beautiful man in the grey hood glared at Hyde's back until the man was out of view before turning his attention to Ana. He strode toward her with purpose and immediately her guard was up, though she was well aware there was little she could do at this moment. He was flanked by another man, wearing a crisp dark suit and sporting a blonde, buzz cut. Grey's eyes never left hers as he approached.

He reached a hand out to stroke her cheek. She was his prize, and he was claiming her. It made her feel sick. She jerked her head away. He slapped her immediately. Hard enough to sting, her cheek glowing red, though it was not hard enough to bruise, she knew from experience. Anastasia felt tears prick at her eyes again and she tried to blink them away angrily. She was not going to cry. Not in front of him. Not like this. She wasn't that weak.

"Do not jerk away from me, _Slave"_ He sneered. And in the next instant he was stroking her cheek again, softly, where he'd struck it.

"Master Grey!" Anastasia turned her head slightly to catch the sight of a balding, corpulent man approaching, all grins. He was obviously the owner of the auction house and keen to ingratiate himself with the man who'd just purchased her.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Sir! I had not expected you back so soon! And what a lovely young filly you won yourself Sir, I am sure you will be very pleased with her. I wanted to know if you would be paying via transfer or via cash as usual." He spoke casually but Anastasia could tell he was nervous and also keen to get his paws on the money; definitely the owner.

"Joel," The man in the grey cloak greeted him smoothly, "Taylor will make sure you are paid in full. Cash as usual. But now I would like to take my prize home. If you will excuse us." He dismissed the man and turned his attention back to her. This was it. He was taking her. Where was he taking her? What was he going to do with her?

"Up." He commanded, looking at her expectantly. She knew now was not the best time to resist. And she tried, she honestly tried to stand, but she couldn't get her legs to work.

"I said UP, bitch." His words and tone were harsh and he gripped her arm, yanking her up and forcing her up off the chair. Her legs buckled beneath her immediately and he had to catch her to keep her from falling to the floor. Recognition flashed in his grey eyes as he supported her with ease.

"Can you stand?" He asked then, softer this time. She was afraid. She hated to admit it, but she was afraid. She nodded uncertainly. He released her and she wobbled, but when she tried to straighten herself up her legs buckled again and she collapsed. He caught her in his arms again, holding her with ease.

"Fuck," He muttered, "I hate it when they do this. " He murmured, more to himself than to her. Before she knew what was happening, he scooped her up and, the next thing she knew, she was in a fireman's carry, and he was striding towards a side door at the back of the room. She squealed a little in surprised and he slapped her on her bottom, once, hard, and carried her out of the club as nonchalantly as one would a sack of potatoes.

In the alley, a black SUV was waiting, and she found herself being set into the passenger's seat in the back. A delirious giggle escaped her lips. He was actually buckling her in. She'd half expected to be tossed in the trunk, hidden from view. He stroked her hair back and she laughed again, though it was mostly terror and the drug that fueled her hysteria. He said nothing as he shut the door on her and walked around to the other side of the vehicle, his tall, lithe body folding into the seat next to her. Her entire body was on fire. She wasn't bound but she was just as helpless, unable to move her limbs. She vaguely heard him tell his driver, Taylor , to take them home. But she was already passing out. They had to have upped her dosage of whatever they were feeding her system to keep her docile. She hated it. She felt his hand smoothing back her hair again and an involuntary shudder ripped through her. She braced herself for the slap to follow, but it didn't come.

"Sleep, Pet." His tone was gentle, but still demanding. Half way gone already, she allowed herself to shut out the world, her heavy eyelids falling closed, the stranger's hand still stroking her hair.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I know...I know it has been forever since I last updated. I have been so busy with work and moving, that I just havent had time to sit down and write. I promise I haven't abandoned this story, or the Fall of Grey for that matter (I am working on the ending to a chapter I am almost ready to post for that story as well) This chapter is a little bit shorter than previous chapters but I just wanted to update something to let you in on where I am going with this particular work. I promise the next update will come much sooner.**

* * *

Anastasia woke with a start, sitting up straight before her mind had a chance to catch up with her. Her head was pounding. She looked around and found herself in a dark room, in the middle of a plush, four poster bed. A quick look out the window told her she was still in the city, and it was night. It appeared as if she was near the top of a high-rise somewhere near the harbor.

A high-rise prison – how quaint- She thought, massaging her temples in a futile attempt to get her headache under control. There would be no escaping out those windows even if they did open. She looked down at herself, her clothes had been changed. She was wearing plaid grey and blue pajama bottoms and a faded, old Rolling Stones t-shirt. She cautiously reached up to her throat; the leather collar had been removed as well.

Her limbs felt stronger, the drug having worn off. She slid to the side of the bed and was about to test her legs out when the bedroom door lock clicked and the door swung open. She tensed, scooting back and away from the unwelcome intrusion.

He stood in the doorway, a figure in shadow, wearing slate grey slacks and a white button down shirt, the grey cloak gone now that he was in the safety of what she assumed was his own home. She felt her entire body tense as he stepped into the room, a nimble finger sliding the light switch on the wall up so that the overhead lamp cast them both in a dim glow. He did not turn the light on fully and she was grateful for that, as the sudden light was already stinging her eyes and increasing her headache.

"You are awake. Finally. Welcome back." His voice was crisp, deep, no nonsense. He stepped out of the room briefly, leaving the door open, but before she had a chance to react he was back, holding a small tray, on which sat a glass of water, a glass of orange juice, and a plate of buttered toast with jam. He strode toward her on the bed placing the tray in front of her before stepping back. She made no move for the food, eyeing him warily instead.

"Eat." He prompted, gesturing toward the tray. "I assure you. It is not drugged. You will not be drugged again. Unless you would prefer it..?" He made as if he was going to exit the room to retrieve the drug in question but she shook her head vehemently.

"No!" She shouted, before she could stop herself. His lip twitched, hiding a faint smile.

"I thought as much."

He moved toward her again, crossing the room and taking a seat in the arm chair opposite the bed. At his quirked eyebrow she acquiesced, pulling the tray towards her, but making no move to eat or drink. He crossed one leg and leaned his head on his arm, cocking it to the side and appraising her. She appraised him right back.

He was tall, maybe about 6'2 or 6'3, and lean, his features elegant, his movements graceful. He was toned, she could tell from the way he held himself. She could also tell, from his broad shoulders and well-muscled arms, that he worked out. His taut body had hidden strength; he would not be overpowered easily. He had a mess of coppery brown hair, that shown dark auburn under the dim lighting. His cool grey eyes regarded her intently, and he was in between her and the bedroom door. _Steady Ana, Steady…not yet._ She heard Ray's voice in her ear, his training kicking in. Now was not the time.

"Eat." He said again, a hint of annoyance in his otherwise cool tone.

She remained stubbornly still.

"Oh, for _Christ's sake."_ He was up from the arm chair and across the short distance to the bed in less time than it took her to blink. He loomed over her and she tensed readying herself for the blow she thought would come. He leaned forward grabbing the toast and taking a big bite before downing a swig of the water. He raised his shoulders at her in a shrug, and tossed the toast back on the plate. " _Eat."_

Begrudgingly, she scooted forward and took the toast, nibbling on it slowly as she watched him. Seemingly satisfied, he returned to his seat and his previous relaxed position. He was fast, she noted. He nodded his approval as she reached for the juice, taking a tentative sip.

"What is your name?" He asked next, leaning back in his arm chair as a king would while surveying his kingdom. She raised her chin defiantly and turned away from him, not answering.

She knew she should be playing up her cover role, reinforce the frightened captive idea, but she was raw, and frightened, and nursing a hangover from the exit of that drug from her system. She felt exposed in front of this man, and she did not like the way his eyes bore into her. If she was dead already she sure as hell felt like taking him down with her.

 _Now, now Annie, don't go throwing your life away._

Ray's voice entered her thoughts, calming her. He was right…She knew that. It was time to play along, wait for the right moment…be patient.

After her brief moment of defiance, she bowed her head, shoulders slumping deliberately as if she was giving in, and she looked at her palms in her lap.

"Let's try this again," His tone was patient, and a little condescending, "My name is Christian Grey. What is your name?"

 _Christian Grey!_ She did her best to hide her surprise, She knew he'd looked familiar, and the name as it turned out was not a pseudonym as the others at the auction house had been. He was Christian Grey. Son of Carrick Grey, one of the most powerful business attorneys in Seattle, and CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc, a mega corporation housed downtown. If he was involved in this – there was no telling how deep this organization went. This was bad. Very…very… _very bad._

Anastasia covered for her momentary shock by making a show of shivering before she answered, her voice deliberately quaky despite the fact that she wanted to roll her eyes at his question, nothing any of these slavers said was original, and she knew the answer to this particular question very well.

"I-I am y-yours to name M-Master." She did her level best to not roll her eyes at the sound of her own voice. And then he rolled his eyes, _actually rolled his eyes at her_ , and reached over to a manila folder on the table next to the chair. He opened it and began reading.

"Says here you are Anastasia Rose Steele." He smirked at her supposed astonishment and continued. "I think I'll stick with calling you, Anastasia. If that's perfectly alright with you."

"I-I prefer Ana, actually…Sir." She replied keeping her voice soft and demure. His lip twitched.

"Anastasia is more pleasing to the ear." He replied smoothly. She glowered, and he continued

"Nevada driver's license and home address. License says 21 years old, birth certificate says 19. That home address is currently occupied by a young family of four. No relation. Recent arrival in Seattle. You were staying at the Garden Grove's Motel. Your things have been removed from the motel room and destroyed. You were officially checked out three nights ago. No living family. No friends. No one to miss you." He shut the folder with a flourish and leaned forward on the chair to gaze at her. The license and address were a fake, the birth certificate too. Whatever background they ran on her false persona had obviously checked out. She hadn't been made. That was good.

"What were you thinking?" He asked her suddenly, "You walked right into the lion's den.". She looked up in shock and was surprised to see a flash of concern and upset in his eyes. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He shook his head. She watched him critically through her lashes, but she kept her head bowed. She hiccupped and made a sniffling sound as if she was working to holds back tears. That technique had worked on Tyrone, she would use it again to suss out Grey's motivation.

"Stop crying." He snapped. She sniffled again. Time to turn it up a notch.

"Please…Sir. I-I want to go home.." She pleaded. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, as if he was trying to stave off a headache.

"Which home is that, exactly, Miss Steele?" He asked politely, "The motel? I told you- you have been checked out from there and your personal belongings have been incinerated. Nevada? Your birth mother is dead. No father. So please…tell me where is home, Miss Steele?" He asked, not unkindly.

Ana said nothing, calculating what the best response would be at this juncture. He sighed.

"This is your home now, Anastasia. At least for the time being. The sooner you get used to that, the easier things will be for you."

She continued to sniffle, turning up the water works, it was time to test out what kind of man she was dealing with here.

"I said stop crying!" He barked at her. "Crying never helped anybody do anything, and it will _not_ help you with me, so _stop. It."_ His tone was like ice. It was as if he knew she was not really crying and he was unwilling to suffer it.

"Why-why are you doing this to me?" She decided to push her luck. "Why won't you let me go?"

"I paid a lot of money for you Miss Steele. That fucker Jack Hyde had some balls in bidding against me. You are just his type…just my type too, really…" He stood and moved closer to her on the bed. He set down on the edge of the bed next to her. He gripped her chin and forced her head up to look at him. She made no move to stop him. But she was not going to be cowed, either. She glared at him. She was just his type eh? He had no idea. His lip twitched again in an almost smile and he released her chin. He stood up again and began pacing next to the bed.

"Miss Steele, you have no idea what kind of world into which you have stepped." She huffed. He made it sound like she'd had a choice. Granted, she had…but he didn't know that. He sighed.

"You know," He added conversationally, "There are Masters who would cane you so hard, you wouldn't be able to sit on your bottom for a week for the look you've just given me Miss Steele." She swallowed hard.

"And…are you one of those Masters? Sir?" She did her best not to sound sarcastic, but she was tired, and frightened, and raw, and it was difficult to keep from slipping, and if he was going to cane her, she'd rather he just get it over with. He smiled for real that time, his eyes darkening as he looked straight at her.

"Yes. I am."

Ana felt herself gasp, though it was not entirely from fear, it was from the look in this man's face, his, admittedly handsome, face, his strong jaw twitching, his granite eyes glimmering with promise. Surely the most evil of demons had the faces of angels. The gasp was enough to break whatever spell had been between them though, as he sighed again stepping back from her and running his hand through his hair in…what? Exasperation?

"But I'm not going to do that." He said at last, refusing to look at her for a moment. If he had he would have seen honest confusion cross her features. What was this bastard playing at? A mind-game of some sort?

"Why not?" She was wary of his sudden reticence. His mood had shifted entirely, from that predatory domineering bastard who had purchased her at auction like cattle, to this hesitant unsure and, yes, frustrated bundle of insecurity pacing before her. He let out a harsh laugh. Suddenly he was angry. His moods were so mercurial. Anastasia recognized how dangerous that could be, especially given her current situation.

"Do you want me to?!" He snapped, eyes blazing at her. She shook her head rapidly. Another sharp bark of laughter was her reward, though there was no mirth in his tone. "I didn't' think so."

"You hit me." Anastasia challenged, wanting to gauge the man's reaction. "At the auction house, I mean. Why not now?"

He was agitated, yet he made no move to punish her for it.

"At the auction house, I _had_ to hit you." He offered, by way of explanation pacing the room in front of her bed. He was no longer making any sense, speaking in half sentences as if she and he were both on the same page.

"You _had to…"_ Anastasia replied slowly "You mean…like…you were compelled to? But you aren't right now?" She tried. He scowled at her and the anger in his eyes made her flinch. Instantly he looked remorseful.

"Do not psychoanalyze me, Anastasia." He adopted a condescending tone now and it frustrated her.

"I wasn't – I just…"

"I had to hit you," He interrupted her to repeat himself. He was a very frustrating man."I had to hit you because there were people watching. People who would have suspected something amiss had I let your infraction slide. You must understand Anastasia, I am not a man who lets infractions slide. Even when one doesn't know that an infraction has been made."

"That doesn't seem fair." Anastasia countered, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew she probably looked like a petulant child but she didn't care. She was terrified, and fraying at the edges; her head was still throbbing from the hang over caused by the constant drugging she'd had to deal with upon waking and Grey was continuing to make no sense at all.

"It is not fair." He agreed. "But that is the way it is." He moved away from the door to the bedroom and walked over toward the window. He stared out at the city below them. It really was a beautiful view. But more importantly, the door to the bedroom was now clear and his back was turned to her.

"You know, Anastasia…You haven't referred to me as Sir for the last 15 minutes…I find that interesting. Tyrone had you pegged for a natural submissive. But I don't think that's…."

Anastasia didn't hear the rest of that sentence, for she was already out the bedroom door and down the hall.

She darted down the immaculate hallway towards the main living area. It was massive, spacious and artistically decorated in a minimalistic style, all chromes, and whites, and blacks. She took note of it only briefly before charging for the front door. If this was her one shot she needed to take it. It was only a matter of time before she was subdued once more; this was her best chance at getting the hell out of here. The foyer was empty. Ana noted briefly that her captor wasn't right on her heels, but she paid it no mind. The front door was an elevator. Ana's heart sank.

The front door was an elevator with no call button. The elevator had what looked like a state of the art finger print key pad next to it. Nothing she could hack. She needed his finger print to even open the damn elevator. The stairs were likely to have the same fail-safes installed. What had she been thinking? Of course he would have fail-safes. He was a kidnapper and slaver.

Whelp…she needed a finger…She was going to get it or die trying. She turned and suddenly her heart was in her throat. She was face to face with Mr. Buzzcut, her captor's right-hand man from the auction house. He was big, and broad, and mostly muscle, and she would not be able to overpower him head on. She scanned the room for anything she could use to her advantage- there was a vase on the entry table, but she wouldn't be fast enough from her current position. If she surrendered now they would surely kill her…or worse. She was out of options.

She charged.

Buzzcut's eyes widened briefly and he parried to the side enough to be able to grab her arms as she charged him, twisting her around so he held her firmly against his chest. She struggled to free herself, but his grip was tight. She had not thought this through. She'd panicked. She'd shown her hand. God but she was a fool. He changed positions so that he had her in a head lock, the kind that would easily rend her unconscious or dead from lack of oxygen if he wanted to. She heard quick, heavy footsteps enter the foyer and she knew Grey was joining them. She tried once more in vain to buck herself out of Buzzcut's grip, but it was no use.

"Taylor! Release her, please." Grey sounded breathless, but still calm . Buzzcut – Taylor - obeyed. She dropped to the floor in a heap, gasping for air. This was it. She was dead. She caught her breath, reigned in her temper and stared resolutely at the floor. She refused to beg. She wasn't going to cry.

She sensed Grey kneeling in front of her, and then a gentle hand cupped her chin, encouraging her to look up. When she did she was captured by frightened, grey eyes staring into hers imploringly.

"Anastasia, you _cannot_ run from me. Do you understand? " His voice was deliberately low. He was angry and frightened, she could tell by his demeanor, but he was using a gentle tone on her. She stayed silent and he continued.

"Do you realize what the punishment is for trying to run away from your Master?" He asked her. Ana swallowed hard. She could guess.

"No…Sir."

"Do you realize that if you'd tried to pull that little stunt while anyone else but Taylor was here, what I would have to do to you?" He sounded genuinely concerned, though Ana was pretty sure he was toying with her. She looked away from him and he stood abruptly. Anger taking over. His moods shifted faster than she could keep up.

"That was a very stupid thing you did. Anastasia. "He chastised her.

She said nothing.

"You cannot run from me. You cannot disobey me, if you show any disrespect to me or—"

"Sir, if I may?" Taylor interrupted. Grey looked at him expectantly. "Perhaps the young lady would be more eager to comply if you explained to her why it would be in her best interest to obey you?" Ana looked up at Taylor again, noticing for the first time the hidden smile that played on the man's lips.

Grey pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and paced in front of her once more, drawing her attention.

"Taylor is right. I am terrible at explaining this part of things. My brother Elliot is better at this- but he is in Spain right now." He continued to pace, clearly lost in thought, but this exchange gave Ana a glimmer of hope….she was wary, but she would listen to what he had to say. She waited for him to speak again, not moving from her position on the floor. Finally he stopped pacing and turned to her. He kneeled on the floor again so that he was at her level, and again Ana was struck by the earnestness and beauty she saw in the man's face. He took a deep breath, and began.

"I am not going to hurt you, Anastasia." He paused. She blinked and swallowed. He continued. "I want to help you. My brother and I have…an arrangement. I don't want to hurt you, but in order to get you out of this alive, we have to play our parts. Do you understand?"

Ana stared at the man in front of her dumbly. If what he was offering was true, she might not be a dead woman after all. She might still be able to salvage this mission. He took her silence for hesitance and possible confusion and she watched as he ran his hand through his thoroughly tousled hair once more.

"Look. Anastasia….for all intents and purposes, I am your Master… _for now._ My brother is set to come back from Spain in two weeks time. He will help. Taylor will also help. You can trust him. And you can trust me. But we cannot for a second let anyone outside of this pent house believe I am not your Master. If you can do that. No harm will come to you. I swear it." There was conviction in his voice and a hard determined edge to his words. His jaw was set. If he was lying, he was a very good liar. Ana did not trust him, but she felt herself wanting to.

"Why are you doing this?" Ana asked, gauging Grey's response, "Why are you helping me?" She saw pain flash behind his grey eyes and he straightened his shoulders and looked away from her.

"I have my reasons." He replied, dismissive. She noted that Taylor was averting his gaze from Grey at the mention of her question

"But why…why me?" She insisted. There were hundreds of girls in the same predicament as she was, hundreds going unhelped, with no escape. He'd singled her out, paid a hefty sum to get her specifically.

"You…remind me of someone." He said, and shrugged. "And when Hyde tried to outbid me I knew I couldn't let him get his hands on you." He still wasn't looking at her. This topic of conversation clearly made him uncomfortable.

"Okay." She whispered. She was going to risk it. If he was lying, she would deal with it later. If he wasn't. She might actually have stumbled into the most painless way for her to get out of her current situation alive, which made her just about the luckiest person she'd ever heard of. What mattered now was that he wasnt going to kill her. She wasn't out of the woods yet. But this was hope.

"Okay?" Christian mimicked her, his grey eye s widening ever so slightly. She nodded, deciding to acquiesce for now.

"Yes…" and to his astonishment (she noted) she averted her own gaze, looking to the floor.

"Yes...Sir."

* * *

 **A/N: Again thank you so much for sticking with me. As always I would love to hear what you thought. I am already working on the next bit so I hope to have that out next week or the following at the latest. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello all. Again I find myself apologizing for lack of updates on this and the Fall of Grey. Unfortunately, a massive computer glitch caused me to lose pages and pages of progress on Fall of Grey so that update is postponed as I struggle to re-write what I lost. Additionally, this chapter is late and a bit shorter this week, I apologize but a very near and dear family friend passed away suddenly last weekend and I have been dealing with what comes after when a loved one dies for the last week and a half. He was the father of a friend of mine and one of the kindest, most generous people I have ever met. He was an amazing g photographer, his favorite subjects were Renaissance Festival Goers and Comic-Con Cosplayers but he took beautiful portraits, wildlife shots, and sunsets as well. If you want to check out his work:** **photos/grantbrummett/.**

 **His family is also struggling in the aftermath of his sudden passing as he did not have a life insurance policy. They've created a memorial fund to help with his final expenses if anyone out there is interested which closes tomorrow:**

 **As always, thank you for your continued support and please review/let me know what you thought! Love to you all,**

 **~rose**

* * *

A swift knocking on her door the next morning woke Anastasia just in time to see Christian Grey storm into her room. He was in an agitated state, she could tell from the way his hair was tousled, his face unshaven. A glance out the window told Ana it was closer to midday than to morning, she couldn't believe she'd slept so long, then again, it was the first actual night of rest she'd gotten without the aid of a heavy sedative flooding her system since she'd gotten herself kidnapped at Midnyte.

"Get up. Now. Hurry up!" He demanded, not waiting for her to move before he pulled the blankets completely off the bed and gripped her arm, half dragging her off the plush mattress.

"Hey!" She snapped, attempting to pull her arm away. Grey did not release her until he had her out of bed and on her feet. He was pacing in front of her. He was nervous. When he looked at her at last she saw the anxiety in his eyes.

"Anastasia… a family _friend_ has decided to drop by unannounced. I wanted to let you sleep as long as possible before we got into the proper training you will need . But I was stupid. She will be up here any minute. For god's sake keep your head down and do as your told, do you understand?" He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair and Ana nodded. This family friend he mentioned seemed to have him rattled.

Another knock on Ana's door alerted them to Taylor's sudden presence. He seemed less rattled than Grey but it was hard to tell with his professional demeanor.

"Mr. Grey, Sir. Ms. Lincoln is here to see you. She is on her way up via the elevator now."

"Shit." Grey muttered, looking Ana up and down. Ana decided to alleviate some of his worry. She offered him a shy smile and dipped her head slightly.

"Master Tyrone taught me the basics of proper etiquette already Sir…I promise to behave." She had to hide the smile that threatened to bust across her face at Grey's handsome, gaping face. He recovered quickly enough, straightening his back and fixing his hair the best he could. She could tell he was trying to hide his relief and she wondered why. A quick glance from beneath her lashes at Taylor told her he had noticed as well.

Grey approached her again and, to her surprise, he took her hands in his and urged her to look up at him. She complied.

"Elena Lincoln is one of the most vicious people I know, Anastasia. Do not rile her. Do not even look at her if you can avoid it," His tone was gentle. Apologetic. He hesitated, breaking eye contact with her before he continued. "I will have to treat you as property. Please understand... I didn't want to do this, this way." He pursed his lips, looking at her again, gauging her reaction. He opened his mouth as if to continue but then stopped himself, looking at her instead for a reply.

She nodded that she understood. Elena Lincoln. She wondered if that Lincoln was related at all to Lincoln Timber…it would fit the bill. Another wealthy socialite to add to her list of people she would be bringing to justice very soon. Grey stepped back from her then and looked her up and down. She was still wearing the faded Rolling Stones shirt and pajama bottoms shed woken up in the day before.

"No time to change you…" He mused out loud, "Come on" He grabbed her again by the arm and pulled her out of the bedroom back into the penthouse of his admittedly massive apartment. He looked around quickly. He made a decision and then pointed her in the direction of the far corner of the living room near the fireplace.

"Stand there. Face the wall. Don't move. Don't say anything. Don't make a sound unless I tell you to. Understand?"

"Yes," She breathed before making her way to the designated corner, then she amended "I mean, Yes Sir." The slip had been intentional. She did not want him to think she was _too_ good at following along with his ruse, lest he realize she had a ruse of her own. She stood with her back to the room her nose against the wall like an errant child, arms at her side, feet slightly apart.

"Good." She heard Grey breathe a sigh of relief just as the elevator dinged signaling Elena Lincoln's arrival."

From her position against the wall, Ana could not see a damn thing. It was frustrating. She heard the elevator doors open, and she heard Taylor's greeting. But she had not gotten a chance to lay eyes on Lincoln.

"Christian, darling! Oh it's so good to see you. I do hope you don't mind me popping by. I heard about the excitement at the auction yesterday and I just had to come see for myself what prize had both you And Jack Hyde a twitter." The woman's voice was cloyingly sweet and much too loud for the space she was occupying. It was obnoxious, and grated on Ana's ears.

"Elena." Grey, on the other hand, was as soft spoken as ever. She listened to his greeting and the sound of what must have been him kissing her cheek. "You look as stunning as ever." He continued. Flattering what Ana assumed to be the woman's massive ego.

"Oh you flatter me, my boy." The woman continued, Ana resisted the urge to turn around as she heard the two of them venture further into the living room. "Now, where is this new toy of yours…ah! My word I didn't even see her there. " Ana stiffened at the woman's mention of her but stayed still against the wall. She did not know of what this woman was capable, but she did know that she had Christian Grey on edge and that was a bad sign.

"Yes. "Grey had adopted a bored, disinterested tone. "We are currently playing a game. It's called "Don't move Unless Master Says." I want to see how long she can stand against the wall without collapsing from hunger or exhaustion. If she fails, she will be punished…if she stays put until I release her, she will be rewarded. We are close to 6 hours now."

Ana heard the woman, Elena, giggle at Christian's words, a girlish, unnerving giggle.

"OH Christian….you are positively _wicked_. I love it. I will have to play this game with one of mine some time. Tell me. Do you ever let them win?"

If Grey responded, Ana was not able to hear it. She heard them move to what she assumed was one of the sofas in the main room and sit.

"I hate to interrupt game time dear," Elena continued. "But I must say I was hoping to get a better look at the girl then her back side. And what ghastly thing do you have her wearing?"

She heard Grey audibly sigh, that same air of boredom lacing his tone.

"Very well, Elena…Anastasia, come."

Ana took a breath to calm herself before letting her character slip into place. She pushed off the wall tentatively and turned toward the center of the room. She made sure to keep her head bowed, and her arms at her side. She moved deliberately and gracefully to side of the sofa where Grey was sitting. She did not chance a look at Elena Lincoln yet. Grey took her wrist and tugged her toward the center of the sofa so that she stood between them.

"OH Christian," Elena laughed then, "Is that the Stones shirt I gave you on your 15th birthday? I had no idea you still had it. But honestly, boy why are you keeping her dressed in your good clothes ?"

Ana hated the way the woman discussed her as if she were not standing there, or as if she were an inanimate object.

"It is my shirt yes, and she is mine. I will dress her how I see fit, Elena. I've had her wardrobe ordered but the designer won't be delivering until tomorrow. In the meantime, I refuse to let mine wander about nude for any unexpected visitors to see." He chided.

"You know, Christian. If you are not going to take better care of your things, you really should at least learn to share them." Elena chided right back. Ana kept still.

"I don't need to share." Christian replied. Elena tsked in disapproval,

"Now now, there's no need to sulk. It was just a suggestion, my boy." Elena stood then moving around to Ana's side. Ana continued to stay still.

"Let's get a better look at you, dear." The woman spoke to her for the first time since she'd entered the apartment. Christian leaned back on the sofa and crossed one leg over the other, adopting a disaffected stance.

"Anastasia." His voice was crisp. "You will obey Mistress Lincoln. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master." Ana replied immediately, keeping her tone soft, docile.

"Look at me, child." Elena was using that same sickeningly sweet voice, Ana recognized how dangerous that voice could be when she felt the woman's sharp, talon-like nails digging lightly into her chin to encourage her to look up. Ana obeyed.

Elena was older; she looked to be in her 50s, her hair dyed platinum blonde, her face pulled too tight at the corners of her eyes and forehead. Her lips were too plump, her makeup garish. She was a walking testament to the sad and vain trying to hang onto their youth. If it were not for the fact that this woman trafficked in forced slavery and sexual degradation, Ana would almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

Elena squeezed Ana's cheeks roughly, forcing her mouth to open into a perfect "O." The woman inspected her teeth, turning Ana's head from side to side as if examining a prized pony. Ana could feel Christian's eyes on them, he was watching them like a hawk. After a few minutes of careful examination, Elena released Ana's cheeks and Ana closed her mouth again.

"I'm afraid I just don't see it, my boy. I mean. She's cute and all. Good teeth, not an addict. But she is a waif of a thing. Then again, I suppose you have a type, don't you..." Elena laughed.

"As do you, Elena." Christian reminded her. "Anastasia is exactly what I want right now. She's tight, virginal, and eager to please…aren't you, baby." Christian uncrossed his legs and used one long leg to coax Ana into turning her body toward him and away from Elena.

"Yes, Master." She replied again, again keeping her voice deliberately soft. Christian smirked past her at Elena . Ana could no longer see the older woman's expression, but the icy chill she felt behind her told Ana that the woman was not pleased.

"Hmph….Well…I suppose she is better than the last one….what was her name? Susanna? " Elena leaned forward and Ana could feel the woman's breath against her ear.

"Do try not to kill this one so quickly this time, won't you, my boy?" Her tone was teasing, but her words were menacing. Ana let herself whimper audibly. Elena slapped her behind once harshly, then laughed again. Christian allowed a lazy smile to curve his lips.

"Live and learn as they say," Christian shrugged "And then remember not to leave your slaves passed out in a puddle of their own blood. I was getting bored of her anyway so it's for the best…Anastasia, back to your corner. I think at least another 6 hours, since you just got yourself a break"

Ana tried not to let Christian Grey's words bother her, but the easy way in which he discussed murder with this woman made her doubt things. Was he lying to Elena? Or was he lying to her? He _was_ a good liar. She moved with deliberance back to the wall where he'd placed her initially.

"Elena, I always enjoy a visit from you," Ana heard him continue once she was back against the wall, "But alas, I have some work that must be caught up on before I go into the office tomorrow. If you will excuse me." She heard him stand, and begin to usher Elena back out toward the elevator.

Elena sighed.

"Very well, darling. You will be attending your father's gala next month, yes?"

"We will see." Christian was non-committal. She heard him press his code into the keypad in the foyer. Shortly after, the elevator dinged.

"Always a pleasure to see you Elena, Do give my regards to Linc."

"Of course, my boy. We should have you over for dinner soon. You can bring your girl."

"We will see. Goodbye, Elena."

"Goodbye Christian." The elevator doors closed.

Ana stayed still, exactly where she had been left. She was angry but she wasn't sure why. Was it Grey's nonchalance? Was it the way Elena had spoken about her, the way she'd looked at her? Was it the fact that she was still standing in this damned corner like an errant child? She wasn't sure. But she had to remind herself to keep her anger in check. This was a very dangerous game she was playing, and even if she could trust Grey, she couldn't let him know who she really was.

Quick footsteps made their way back into the living room area. She felt his presence behind her even before he grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the wall and into a quick, strong, reassuring hug. He released her almost immediately, looking her over, his fingers grazing her chin where Elena's nails had left tiny imprints. He frowned.

"Are you alright, Anastasia?" He asked, grey eyes stormy with uncertainty,

"Yes." She whispered, caught in his gaze, her anger vanishing.

"I am sorry we had to do that. I didn't want to even let Elena touch you. But…" He trailed off and looked away from her.

"I'm alright." She reassured. "She didn't seem that bad to me." She tried to keep her tone light.

"I assure you. She is even worse than you could possibly understand. Are you hungry? It's well past lunch. We should eat…" He was changing the subject, but Ana allowed him to lead her into the kitchen area.

She wasn't particularly hungry, but she also knew she needed to eat, keep her strength up. Grey sat her on a bar stool next to the kitchen counter and Ana watched as he went to the refrigerator. He pulled out several Tupperware containers, eyeing each skeptically before placing it on the counter. He picked up a fourth container, studied it, opened it and took a tentative sniff, before wrinkling his nose and tossing the entire container in the garbage can. Ana laughed out loud at that, before catching herself and covering her mouth. What the hell was wrong with her? She hadn't been unable to control her own laughter in years. He looked up at her, quirking an eyebrow.

"I don't exactly cook. My house keeper Mrs. Jones usually takes care of that for me. But I instructed her to make herself scarce for the next few days. So I hope left over's okay with you." He offered her a cheesy grin and opened another Tupperware that looked to be full of some kind of chicken alfredo and broccoli concoction. Ana's stomach rumbled in response and she nodded , still covering her mouth to hide her amusement. He nodded back and turned to place the Tupperware into the microwave, setting it to reheat.

Ana's thoughts sobered while they waited in silence for the pasta to heat up. She had to ask k about what was still troubling her. She felt she could trust Christian Grey, but she needed to be sure. She could not just trust her feelings on this. She needed to know.

"That…that woman…she mentioned another girl. Susanna? Did…did she really die? Did you…" She let herself trail off. She saw Grey stiffen. He had clearly not expected such a question from her at this junction. He did not turn around when he answered so Ana could not gauge his facial tics to see if he was telling the truth.

"Susanna is alive and well, Anastasia. I told you before. I have a certain reputation to keep up." His tone was like ice. He didn't like this conversation. He turned around on her sharply just as the microwave dinged "I staged Susannah's death the night my brother was able to smuggle her out of the country. We needed to make it look like I'd lost control, beat her to death. Everyone knows I go through slaves like a mad man. Most don't last 3 months. I'm violent, unpredictable, sadistic, and I go into rages I like to beat and hurt little brunette girls like you before I rape them over and over again. That is my reputation. That is the kind of man I am supposed to be. That is why Elena and everyone else thinks I just left Susanna to drown in her own blood. Because we _made_ _sure_ that's what they saw. They fear me. They know what I am likely to do to you. And that is the _only_ thing keeping you and me safe in this very moment. "He was snarling at her by the time he'd finished, his eyes brimming with rage. She shrank back in her seat and let herself look cowed. She needed him to calm down, and her fear had worked on him before. He saw. He responded. He covered his face with one hand and turned from her. She saw his shoulders relax as he moved with purpose, getting two plates from the cupboard. He removed the Chicken pasta from the microwave and spooned equal amounts onto the two plates.

He set one plate in front of her with a fork.

"Eat." He demanded. He was still angry. Ana stayed still, staring at him, gauging him. He sighed..

"I am sorry I lost my temper at you, Anastasia. Please eat. "He picked up his own fork and began to poke at the bits of chicken and broccoli on his plate. She copied his movements. The mood between them was sour.

"I'm sorry." She found herself apologizing, "I didn't mean to pry."

He sighed again. still poking at his food.

"You do not need to apologize, Anastasia. It was a fair question. For the record, Susanna didn't like the plan either. But it was the only way. It is still the only way. To set you free, I will have to make them believe I killed you. Believe me when I say I wish there was another way. But there just…isn't. No one gets out of this world, once they've set foot into it, not alive, anyway." She felt the pain in his voice, the self-loathing. It made her feel bad for the man.

"Not even you?" She asked, looking into his haunted eyes. He shook his head.

"No one, Anastasia."


	7. Chapter 7

**_A/N: I am not dead, I promise, and I have every intention of finishing this story ,even after the long hiatus. I have had numerous big changes in my personal life including a new very busy job that has unfortunately left a lot less time for writing. I am trying to get back into the habit now, and wanted to at least post a new chapter for this story...its a little short. Thank you all to those who have sent me messages and inquiries. I will be more prevalent with my updates, I promise._**

* * *

 _"Mom? What's going on? Mom?!"_

 _"Just shut up, Anastasia! Shut your mouth!"_

 _"This the kid?"_

 _"Yeah, this is her. Anastasia!, stand up straight!"_

 _"She's kind of scrawny… not worth more than an eight-ball…"_

 _"But you said— Fine, whatever. Just, give it to me!"_

 _"Mom?!_

 _"Shut UP, Anastasia!"_

 _"Come here, kid"_

 _"Ow, hey! Lemme go!"_

 _"Here's the dust. Now get the fuck out of here."_

 _"MOM!"_

 _"Shut up kid,"_

 _"MOMMY! Wait!'_

 _"I said SHUT UP!"_

* * *

Ana awoke abruptly, shaking the dream from her mind. She hated how some memories just refused to fade, despite how hard she tried to forget them. She had told herself over and over again— the past was in the past. So why couldn't she let go? Why did she still dream about that night? About what her crack-head mother had been willing to do to get her fix… Ana would not be going back to sleep any time soon…the memories were still too fresh in her mind. She sighed to herself, and slipped out of bed, stretching the sleep from her limbs.

It was very late. At first Ana assumed she was the only person in the penthouse who was awake. But then she heard it. The sound of faint sound of piano music was wafting down the corridor. From her room, she could barely hear it; but the melody was haunting. She slipped out of her bed, taking the duvet with her, wrapping it around her slim figure, and crept out of the bedroom. She paused briefly at the door, she didn't think it would be locked, but she was not actually sure until she turned the handle and the door clicked open. Her footsteps were silent as she padded down the hallway toward the great room where she'd seen the piano. She had assumed before that the piano was for decorative purposes only but now it seemed she had been wrong. She stood in the shadows at the entrance of the great room, letting the music wash over her. It was forlorn and melancholic and beautiful.

Christian Grey's eyes were closed as his fingers moved across the piano with fluid grace. He was playing from memory, lost in his own thoughts and world. It was beautiful to witness. The melody was haunting and sad, and Ana felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she listened.

"Are you going to just stand there, all night?" Christian Grey spoke as soon as the melody ended, his tone sardonic but amused. Ana startled a bit, she had been very quiet, and she was half in shadow. She was surprised he'd noticed she was there. He had very good hearing, she noted for later.

Ana decided it was best to play this shyly. She padded into the room further, allowing the light from outside to reflect over her and the duvet. Christian looked up from the piano keys for the first time, his grey eyes shining almost silver in the moonlight.

"That was beautiful." She murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I apologize if I woke you, Miss Steele." He replied. She shook her head.

"Couldn't sleep." She shrugged in response and Christian nodded.

"I know the feeling." He replied and the unspoken word was shared between them, she recognized the look in his eyes. He suffered from nightmares as well.

"Where did you learn to play?" She asked, not wanting the silence between them to drag on too long. Perhaps a sleep deprived Christian Grey would be more forthcoming with information. It was his turn to shrug.

"It doesn't matter." He sounded sullen, almost angry.

"That was very beautiful. What was it called?" She pushed, growing bolder. He smiled indulgently at her

"That piece was called Claire de Lune by a composer named Clause Debussy."

"Do you play often?" She stepped further into the room, positioning herself closer to him. She watched as he almost imperceptivity stiffened in response. She offered him a shy smile and let the duvet dip off one shoulder just a little bit, exposing her clavicle. She watched his eyes move to the pale skin of her collar bone and then back to her face in response.

"No, Miss Steele. The piano, my father likes to point out, is not a particularly Dominant trait or endeavor. It is something, however, that I do for myself."

His stare was as penetrating as ever, but Ana was not daunted. She figured a bit of flirting would not hurt, might even loosen the taciturn Master's tongue a bit. And, if she was completely honest with herself, she found him attractive. But that was not the reason she was flirting. It was purely for information. She was a professional, after all.

"Well…Mr. Grey, you are quite talented with your fingers…" She let herself grin at him, moving closer to where he sat at the piano. He raised an eyebrow at her, a quizzical expression crossing his face.

"You'd be surprised to learn what else they can do, Miss Steele." He replied, almost without skipping a beat, completely non-plussed. Ana bit her lip in deliberation, she didn't want to play this too confident, she was still supposed to be a terrified kidnap victim, meek, and unsure. But she felt like she could push it a little bit. She noticed the way Christian's eyes darkened when she tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth. He liked that. Good to know. She let her eyes lower from his to a point just below his chin, a submissive look, docile, she knew he would respond to that. She knew now how she would play this. She let him watch as she curled up on herself emotionally. She tugged her hair back behind her ear and pulled her duvet back up over her shoulder. She offered him a shy smile and then looked away.

"I'm sure you are very talented in a lot of ways." She murmured this time, still not meeting his gaze. She noticed through her periphery vision that his eyebrow raised again. He was studying her. She confused him. She could tell she intrigued him.

"In some ways." He agreed, his tone softer this time.

"I am sorry I interrupted you." She apologized, " It was just so beautiful, and I…" She trailed off deliberately.

"It's quite alright, Miss Steele. After what you've been through, I imagine it can be hard to sleep through the night. I have some Xanax on hand if you would like to take something for your nerves."

She shook her head.

"I think I've had enough drugs pumped into my system for one lifetime, thanks." She smiled at him again, and she saw the slight smirk hint at his features.

"Good girl." He responded. _Patronizing ass._ She thought. She let herself blush though as if flattered. She saw his smile grow just a little. She pushed a bit further and bit her lip again. He responded. She was turning him on. She could tell. Christian Grey liked his women innocent, and docile. Ana should have guessed, given his standing in the illegal human trafficking community that was plaguing Seattle. She wasn't sure why that disappointed her, exactly. but is stung.

"You should get some sleep, Anastasia." He snapped abruptly, standing from the Piano bench for the first time since she entered the room. She glanced at his pajama bottoms, noticing a slight bulge forming. She had him bothered, and he was trying to get rid of her. She had to hide her smile at that thought. She felt like teasing him a bit more but she held her tongue and pretended not to notice his rapidly growing hard on. Men...they were so easy to control, always thinking with their dicks. She would not be getting any more information tonight, but she knew now that she would be able to crack him, get him to tell her what she needed to know. It would take a little time, but he was drawn to her, like she to him, and she would use that. Still. She did not like being told what to do and did not feel like going to bed without a fight.

"So should you." She challenged him. He frowned. He did not like being challenged. Clearly he was a man who was used to getting his way.

"Anastasia…" There was a warning in his tone. "Get some sleep. Now." It was not a suggestion. It was a command. And suddenly Ana had a wicked idea. She had to hide her grin as she thought it. She would let him win, but she would let him win on her terms. She bowed her head slightly again and approached him.

"Alright… I will try to sleep." She conceded. He was just beginning to smile at his little victory when she invaded his personal bubble. She was leaning up, almost brushing his chest she was so close and before he knew what to do she leaned up on her toes and kissed him gently on the lips. It was a peck, but it had the desired effect. His eyes widened in shock, his mouth slightly agape.

"Good night, Christian. Thank you for the song." She gave him another shy smile and turned on her toes to exit the room without a backwards glance. She could sense him staring at her back as she left. Little victories. Until she got out of here, that's what she could live with. Little victories. And once she was free of this place...she would win the war.

* * *

 _"Shit man, what do we want with a kid anyway?"_

 _"Are you kidding? This little bitch is going to make us a fortune. Aren't you, baby."_

 _"Get away from me!"_

 _"Hahahah! She's got spirit, I'll give her that."_

 _"You sure about this Frankie? She's awfully young."_

 _"Don't be a pussy, Ray. Young sells. I know a few guys who'd kill for a night with a fresh young cunt like this one."_

 _"Let me go! Let me go you freak!"_

 _"Now, now, shut up and do what you're told, we own your ass now, bitch. Dave – take her."_

 _"Yeah, yeah Frank. Jesus this is fucked up."_

 _"I didn't ask for the commentary. You don't like it, then get the fuck out of here."_

 _"Calm down Frankie, we're with you. You know that."_

 _"Yeah, yeah…whatever you say Frankie. Come on, girl."_

 _"NO!"_

 _"Ow! The little bitch bit me!"_

 _"Ray, handle it!"_

 _"Whatever you say, boss."_

* * *

It was still very late. A glance at the clock told Ana it was 3:30 in the morning. She still could not sleep. Every time she tried, her mind wandered back to that night. And the night after. She told herself she was over it. Over the betrayal and the hurt. She was a stronger woman for it, and she was the kind of woman who helped those who needed it, like she'd been helped once before. But it still...hurt.

There was no beautiful music playing anymore to soothe Ana's nerves. She assumed the handsome slaver had gone to bed by now. She felt lonelier than she had in a long time. And in her loneliness her thoughts kept drifting back to times gone by. To her mother. To her almost fate. And most of all, to Ray. Raymond Steele; the man who'd saved her as a child, the man whose name she'd adopted as her own, much to his chagrin. She missed him. She promised herself she would not cry, but she did miss him.

 _No use cryin' over spilt milk, Annie._

She heard his voice in her mind, chastising her gently and it made her smile. He'd taught her everything he knew, he'd taught her how to take care of herself. He'd been the strongest person she'd ever known. She would make him proud.

* * *

Downstairs, in his own bedroom, Christian Grey lay in his bed wide awake. Ana's full lips pressed against his own had left his entire body tingling, filled with electricity. And so he lay in his bed, eyes open, fingertips brushing against his lips where Ana had kissed him hours earlier. His mind kept trailing back to the peak of her skin he'd caught when her duvet had slipped from her shoulder. His mind's eye replayed the image of her biting her lip over and over again and it was driving him crazy. He'd wanted to take her tonight, to make her his. But he knew in his heart that if he'd tried that, it would not have been right, he could not take her as he wished and have her truly be his. It was not fair of him to be having these desires, to be pushing that on her, the poor girl had already been through enough without his unwanted advances. . He wished Ana were with him at that very moment. He wanted to hold the girl in his arms, feel her snuggled against his chest. Christian sighed to himself in frustration, knowing that he would get no sleep that night, wondering what his pale angel was dreaming about.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: After a long...long hiatus I am trying to get past my writers block and get back to this story. I am terribly sorry for the huge delay with this, but I have part 2 of htis chapter almost ready to go and will be updating on a more regular frequency.**

 **Huge thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story.**

 **-rose**

* * *

The next morning, Christian Grey was waiting for Ana in the kitchen. He grinned at her arrival and she felt her cheeks heat up in response. She had come out still in the pajama bottoms and t-shirt she'd found herself in when she first arrived and was starting to feel a bit like a vagabond. She started to smile at him in greeting, but then noticed that he wasn't alone. A woman was there as well, she had her back turned to Anastasia and was digging around in the pantry for something. Ana immediately dropped her gaze. Christian's body language told her he was relaxed, at ease, but she still decided to play it cautious. Christian noticed and frowned immediately.

"Anastasia, so good of you to join us at last." His tone was still light, teasing. The woman next to him turned at his statement, a broad smile plastered on her face as well. Still, Ana kept her head bowed and avoided eye contact with either of them.

"Master?" She kept her voice subdued, her tone inquisitive.

"Anastasia, I would like you to meet my housekeeper, Mrs. Jones. Mrs. Jones, this is Anastasia Steele." Ana looked up at the woman properly for the first time. She was younger than Ana had expected , probably in her early 40s. Her blond hair was pulled up into a bun atop her head, and her light eyes regarded Ana warmly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Steele," Mrs. Jones nodded brightly.

"Anastasia, Mrs. Jones, like Taylor, understands the necessity of certain discretion in front of others, but you can trust her." Christian continued. Ana figured that was the case but also knew it was prudent to be cautious.

"It is nice to meet you, Mrs. Jones." Ana gave the woman a shy smile in return. Grey put a lot of trust in his people, Ana wondered briefly if that was wise of him, given the danger of the situation and the devastating consequences if his ruse was found out.

"May I get you anything to drink Miss Steele? Coffee? Juice? Tea?" Mrs. Jones continued.

"Do you have English breakfast tea? And Ana please, just Ana."

"Of course, Miss- Ana. " Mrs Jones smiled indulgently and went back to busying herself in the pantry. Ana could feel Christian's eyes on her.

"Anastasia. After breakfast, my stylist will be arriving with a new wardrobe for you. She is very professional and discreet, but she cannot be trusted. She works with Elena Lincoln and a few other higher power Masters and Mistresses in the organization. As far as she is to know, you are my property. She will expect me to treat you as such. She will not harm you, but if she knew was we were hiding, the consequences would be dire. After breakfast I would like to go over some additional rules and requirements it would be best you follow while you are here. Do you understand?"

"I understand, Christian." She was looking forward to after breakfast herself, Grey would be able to answer a few of her questions as well. Mrs. Jones returned moments later with a tea cup full of hot water and a tea bag of Twinning's English Breakfast- Ana's favorite. Ana smiled.

* * *

"I want to show you something." Christian Grey stood from the kitchen counter stool where he'd been seated. Breakfast was over and Mrs. Jones was clearing away the dishes. Ana thought she heard the older woman tsk in disapproval. From the look grey had given his house keeper, Ana knew he had heard as well.

"What is it?" Ana asked.

"My stylist will be in half an hour, so first we need to get you situated. Come with me." Christian was in Dom mode, he was deliberately not answering her questions and had reverted to ordering her about. Ana bit back a sigh, and rolled her eyes was she got off the counter stool herself. Christian's eyes narrowed and he grabbed her by the arm somewhat more roughly then was strictly called for.

"Anastasia. You will not roll your eyes at me again. I've warned you what that sort of look warrants. You need to behave yourself better than that when we have company. Now. Come with me."  
Anastasia let herself look frightened.

"Y-yes Sir." She whimpered just a little.

"Mr. Grey Sir." Mrs. Jones interrupted them. Christian pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.  
"Yes Mrs. Jones?" His tone was frustrated, like an errant teenager about to get scolded by his mother .

"I fear you may be scaring the poor girl ,Sir. She's only just had her breakfast. Forgive me, but remember what your brother said about your on/off switch? " Mrs. Jones gave Grey a pointed look and he scowled at her.

"Yes. I remember." He turned to Anastasia. "I apologize for the abrupt shift in gears Miss Steele. But we do not have a lot of time. And we need to make sure you are ready. Will you please come with me?" He was stiff, forcing himself to speak slowly. Ana was pretty sure he thought he sounded polite. He was struggling. She bit back a smile. She nodded again that she understood making a note to ask Grey about this brother of his later.

"Yes Sir." She kept her tone soft and more mannered, but stronger than before. Grey's mercurial moods were most definitely _not_ his most attractive feature, Ana decided. Mrs. Jones smiled at them.

"It's okay dear, Mr. Grey won't hurt you. He's all bark." She smiled at them both and Grey scowled at her again.

"Not _all_ bark. Mrs. Jones." He warned. The woman just nodded at him and gave Ana an encouraging wink as they departed the kitchen. Mrs Jones turned back to busying herself with the dishes. Grey took Ana's hand and led her down a hall way. She followed along, amused by his little spat with his house keeper. It was too authentic to have been staged, Ana was more and more certain that Christian Grey was who he said he was, even though she did not yet know exactly why he did what he did. He led her down the hallway and did not release her hand until they were standing in front of a rather plain-looking door. When he looked at her again there was anxiety written all over his features, the Dom mask having slipped away to reveal his inner vulnerability.

"Behind this door, Anastasia, is my play room."

She didn't like the sound of that…what kind of play room would a supposedly sadistic Dominant slave owner have. And why would he need to show her unless they would be using it.

"We won't need this room a lot, but occasionally we will. There are a lot of things behind this door that will look frightening, but they are mostly for show. Do you understand?"

 _Mostly?_

"Y-Yes Sir. I understand." She replied. He nodded and retrieved a key from his jeans pocket. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, gesturing for her to go before him. She complied.

The room was a standard, overpriced kink dungeon that looked like it was right out of a bad S&M porno as far as Ana could tell. The walls were deep mahogany red and a large four-poster cherry bed dominated the room, covered in tacky red satin sheets. There were cuffs attached to each corner of the bed as well. On the far wall of the room was an X cross, there was a bench with cuffs and hooks on its legs, and above her head Ana noted the metal grating and ceiling cuffs. As well as an abundance of red rope. The room was equipped for suspension as well. There was a large chest of drawers on the right hand wall. On the left wall there was an array of whips, floggers, crops, canes, and other tools for corporal punishment. In the far corner next to a second door was a small, human-sized metal cage. It all looked very standard. There was nothing in the room Ana didn't have a name for, and she noted he was missing some of the more insidious tools for punishment she'd seen in her lifetime.

She realized he was watching her, gauging her reaction. She needed to say something. She brought her hand up to her mouth in supposed shock.

"Oh….my…" She murmured softly, going for awestruck as she looked wide-eyed at the various tools and equipment.

"As I said, Anastasia, this room is mostly for show. But it is important for both you and me that this room does get shown. When my designer arrives I want you to be waiting in here."

"In…here?" She let herself squeak, turning to face him. He nodded soberly.

"But first we need to get you ready. Are you alright?" He was concerned. She nodded and squared her shoulders to show him her determination. "Very good. Please come with me."

* * *

Ana found herself once again sitting in a makeup chair, this time in front of a large mirror in the ensuite bathroom of Christian Grey himself. Christian was sitting on a stool in front of her with a makeup palette in his hand.

"I've had to become very good at stage make up Anastasia, I need you to look….worse for the wear, so to speak." He explained to her as he went to work on her face, smiling apologetically. Ana stayed still and let the man work. She watched his beautiful face, stoic in his task, his grey steel eyes, his strong jaw, his perfect lips—pursed in concentration. He'd mentioned nothing of the kiss she'd surprised him with last night, but as she stared at him, their lips this close, she had the undeniable urge to kiss him again. She _wanted_ to kiss him. That was a strange and unnerving revelation. She needed to curb that desire right now. Christian Grey was a happy accident, a tool she was going to use to get herself out of this and back to headquarters. When she returned with her information and the arrests began she knew Grey would undoubtedly be arrested too, his reputation and career likely shattered, even if she managed to explain his real role in the situation, the damage would be done and it could not be helped. It was best not to get emotionally involved. She worked best when she was detached.

Christian applied a base layer of foundation, and then went to work on her right cheek. He applied a red rouge in light circles, and added purples and yellows. Ana let him work in silence. He worked quickly he was clearly skilled at what he was doing as it did not take long before he set the palette down. After he finished, he sat back and appraised her.

"I rushed a bit, but it will be enough to fool my designer, she is somewhat squeamish to begin with. Christian gestured to the mirror and allowed Ana to have a look at herself. She let out a small gasp.

At first glance, it appeared she had a relatively nasty black eye and bruised cheekbone. Grey knew what bruising looked like, he had gotten the multiple colors of healed and fresh wounds blending together just perfect on her right cheek. She reached up to touch her cheek and Christian gently grabbed her head to prevent her from doing so.

"It will smudge." He offered by way of explanation. Do not touch it. My stylist wont be able to look at this too closely, and what she sees will make its way back through the rumor mills. "I am not a nice man, Anastasia...and I do not treat my things very nicely... The worse for wear you look to the outside world, the more believable it will be when you disappear... do you understand?"

"Yes Sir." She replied. And she did. He was serious. And he had put a lot of thought into what he was doing and how he went about it.

"How many before me?" She asked.

"What?" He snapped back, annoyed.

"How many before me have you saved from this...place?"

"I don't know that I've saved anyone, Miss Steele. But there have been 15 before you."

Fifteen...He'd done this at least 15 times before and still managed to maintian this reputation of his. That seemed impossible even for the best of liars. Ana wondered just what he'd had to do to keep from being found out.

"And...after you, you know..."kill" them...us...where do we go?" She prodded further .

"Different places, Miss Steele. The pacific Northwest is no longer safe for you. The West coast is no longer safe for you. When this is over, you will need a new life. My brother is better at the details than I am, but we will provide you with a new identity, a new job, a new home. very...very far away from anyone you would ever have known. You will need to disappear. Anastasia Steele will be dead. You will be alive. What you do with your life from there will be your business, Miss Steele."

Grey was being cryptic, and gruff. He did not like this topic of conversation and it showed. Ana tried a different tactic.

"Your brother...Elliot you'd said...he helps you? why?"

"Elliot has his reasons just as I have mine. Our father is not a good man, Anastasisa. And we..." He trailed off, looking away from her. "We do not have time for this. The designer will be here shortly and we still need to get you set up in my play room. Come."

He stepped back to give her room to get up from the make up chair. But Ana did not move immediately. She felt it needed to be said, given the tortured look she'd seen on Christian's face as he spoke about his family.

"You are not your father, Christian." Grey eyeys met hers and a mirthless smile twisted his beautiful face.

"Sins of the father, Anastasia."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello all, I am sorry I did not have this up last week, but this chapter is a bit longer this time at least and my plan is to have the next post up by end of June. Thank you again for sticking with me :) Please let me know what you think.**

* * *

Christian Grey led Ana back down the hallway and to his playroom. He had flipped his switch again and was in full Dom mode once more. The conversation from earlier had rattled him and his response was to shut down and shut her out. Typical, Ana thought. He led her through the door and had her stand in the middle of the room, beneath the metal grating on the ceiling.

"I need you to remove your pants, Anastasia." Grey was not smooth. Worst come on, ever. Ana thought sardonically, though she made a show of looking hesitant, this made Grey snap again.

"You are welcome to keep your underwear. But my slaves do not wear pants in my playroom and my stylist knows it. So pants. Off. Now."

Ana rolled her eyes at the man's tone and bent to remove the pajama bottoms tied loosely around her waist.

With reflexes that would make a professional tennis player jealous, Christian grabbed Ana by her arm roughly and jerked her toward him.

"What did I say about rolling your eyes at me, Anastasia?" He practically hissed. Ana bit back her own annoyance and let herself look frightened instead, shrinking back from his glare.

"I-Im sorry!" She gasped meekly, stammering her apology. Christian did not back down.

"This is not a game, Anastasia and there is no room for error. When we are in this room you will treat me with all the deference you would treat me as your Master, whether or not we are in private. In this room, I am your Master. You need to remember that and step into that mindset. There are no second chances. The slightest infraction will require punishment. If you fail to perform, I _must_ perform. Do you understand?" He had not loosened his grip on her arm, any tighter and he would begin bruising her.

"Y-Yes Sir! I-I am sorry Sir- Master." She whimpered in response. He was serious this time. He nodded his satisfaction and released her arm. He took a moment to compose himself.

"Better." He conceded. "Now. Strip."

Ana decided that it was best for her limbs and for Grey's stress levels that she just comply. She bent and quickly removed the pajama bottoms, leaving on her underwear and kicking the pants to the side. Grey bent quickly to retrieve them, folded them neatly and walked over to place them in one of the drawers of the armoire. He closed the drawer and opened a separate drawer next to it. Ana could not see what the drawer contained, but Grey perused briefly before reaching in and retrieving a small, patent leather slave's collar. The leather was adorned with sapphires and diamonds in a swirled pattern and a large silver O-ring. He shut the drawer and moved through the room back to standing in front of her. He held up the collar for her to see and had the decency to look embarrassed.

"It's archaic and demeaning, I know. But…appearances." He shrugged and moved around behind her to buckle the collar on in place. "I won't make you wear this all the time. But this collar has my signature on it, and anyone who sees it will know you belong to me. My collar will provide you with a certain level of protection." Grey explained as he moved back around in front of her. She nodded that she understood. The patent leather of the collar was soft, and he had not tightened it too much. He appraised her then and the room, his mind working through some plan he had not felt the need to share with her yet.

"Now…Anastasia…" Christian's tone was firm, but apologetic. Ana had a feeling she was not going to like whatever he had to say next.

"My stylist has already ordered most of your wardrobe per my size guidelines and specifications. She knows my tastes and will provide most of what you will wear store bought; however…" Christian looked disgusted by whatever he was about to say. "Elena Lincoln, the woman you met yesterday, has decided to buy me a present. She has commissioned a slave harness to be hand designed and sewn specifically for your body. I promise, you will not have to wear it, but the stylist will need to take your exact measurements to ensure fit. Hence all this…" He gestured around the playroom.

"Why would she do that?" Ana quirked an eyebrow. Lincoln's intentions were unclear, the older woman obviously wanted to impress Grey, but she had not thought much of Ana yesterday, and it sounded as though Christian had a reputation for going through slaves rather quickly, so a hand-tailored item seemed a pointless extravagance.

"Do not ask questions unless you are invited to Anastasia." Christian replied, his glare hard. "That would normally earn you a hard slap at the very least. Understand?"

"Yes Sir." Ana bowed her head, subdued, annoyed that she could no longer have a conversation with Christian when he was in this Dom mode of his. All his friendliness and ease was gone, replaced by this domineering mask he was wearing.

"You know, Tyrone has lost his touch, you are not well-trained at all." He snapped. Anna let herself look cowed. She had forgotten herself a moment. To Grey, she was a kidnapped girl who'd been abused and trained in the art of submission, yet she had been performing too poorly.

"I'I'm sorry Sir…I…I have forgotten my manners. I-I will behave…" She simpered.

"No no. Please don't apologize, Anastasia… It's…refreshing, I usually have to help deprogram some of the nonsense they force on you at the beginning…it can be a challenge…I am glad you are not broken, Anastasia…truly." Christian's tone was still hard, but his words had softened.

"But it makes this part more difficult." Christian lamented. The man was clearly stressed out and used to being obeyed. Ana needed to step up her game. Alright, she decided, submissive-mode on.

"I'm sorry…Sir. I will be better." She apologized again , and felt like she almost meant it. Christian sighed in response.

"I told you, you do not need to apologize Anastasia, I know this is not fair. But believe me when I say this is the only way." He squared his shoulders again and stared her down, he was psyching himself up to say whatever he had to say next. He took a deep breath.

"I would like you to remove your t-shirt." He started. "And then, I am going to tie your wrists together, and loop them up to the grates above you in the ceiling. After that, I will put a hood over your head. It will block out all light and a fair amount of sound. It is a claustrophobic feeling, but it will only be temporary. I will not leave your side. I will be here the entire time and no harm will come to you in this room. Do you understand?"

That was not nearly as bad as Ana had expected, and she believed him when he said this was for show, but it would be a lot for a normal person in her predicament to take in, so she went piece by piece with her response.

"My…my shirt?" She gripped the fabric tighter around her slight frame, as if reluctant to part with it. They both knew she was not wearing a bra. Christian nodded in affirmation.

"Your shirt."

Ana made a show of looking uncomfortable.

"A-alright…I mean. Yes, Sir…." She made sure to keep her tone hesitant. Christian extended his hand for her shirt and Ana slowly pulled it up and off her torso. She heard Christian's breath hitch almost imperceptibly and allowed herself to blush in front of his gaze as her breasts were exposed to the cool air of the room. After handing him the shirt, she covered her breasts with her arms and fidgeted in front of him, waiting for him to make his next move. He averted his gaze from her chest, though Ana had a feeling it was more for his benefit than for her modesty.

Christian folded the shirt and crossed the room quickly to place it in the same drawer where he'd placed her pajama bottoms earlier. He crossed the room and returned to where he'd previously been standing in front of her. She stood before him , in just her panties, and allowed herself to look cowed, lowering her gaze to his chin automatically as if naturally unable to meet his gaze while standing nearly nude before him. She heard his sharp intake of breath. This was turning him on. He cleared his throat and checked his watch. The stylist was due any minute.

"Cross your wrists and put them out in front of you. Like this." Christian's voice was gruff and demanding as he guided her arms out in front of her. Ana did as she was told. She was reading him like a book. He was attracted to her. And he was nervous. He was avoiding eye contact and pretending to be in control. He pulled a cord of red rope out from his back jeans pocket and showed it to her.

"I am going to tie this rope around your wrists and loop it up through the eyehook in the grating above you on the ceiling." He pointed above her and she looked up to, nodding that she understood. "I will leave the rope slack for now, but when the stylist arrives I will pull it taut and your arms will be pulled up above your head. It would be best to pull you up onto your toes. It will be uncomfortable, but you will only have to endure it briefly. She will want me to unbind you in order to take your measurements. Anastasia. Can you do this?" He tilted her chin up then and she was caught in his intense steely grey stare." He was afraid, afraid that she would not be able to perform, afraid that she would resent him. He was a ball of insecurity as he stared into her eyes begging for confirmation. Poor thing. She would throw him a bone.

"Yes Sir." She made sure her voice sounded stronger than before. "I can do this." She gave him a slight nod of affirmation.

Christian let out a small sigh of relief and went to work, looping the red rope around her wrists, once, twice, three times. He was skilled with rope. He'd obviously had a lot of practice. His movement as he bound her was fluid, but his stance rigid. He tied the rope off but was careful not to tie it too tightly and risk cutting off circulation. He coaxed her arms upward and led the rope through the eye-hook pulling it back. True to his word, he left the rope slack so she could get used to it first. She tested the bonds experientially.

"Are you okay, Anastasia?" He checked on her.

"Yes Sir."

"Good girl." He smiled at her grimly and walked around behind her again back to the chest of drawers. When he returned, he held up a leather hood for her to see. It was very basic, no hooks or locks or eye holes, just leather.

"When I put this on you won't be able to see, you will still be able to hear but it will be muffled. It may feel hard to breathe at first. Do not panic, just breathe slow and evenly. You won't be in this very long, I promise. "

"I understand, Sir." Ana nodded her acceptance of the hood and the tension in Christian's shoulders dissipated slightly.

Christian's cell phone buzzed. He checked a message and looked at her. The tension back in his shoulders.

"That was Taylor. My stylist is in the elevator. Are you ready, Anastasia?" Ana nodded.

"Yes, Sir." Christian nodded at her grimly, and lifted the hood up over her head.

Ana's world was plunged into darkness. She focused on her breathing, as Christian had suggested. When he spoke again his voice was muffled but Ana could make it out relatively clearly.

"Anastasia. I am going to pull the rope tight now. On the count of three. One…two…three…"

On three Ana felt her arms wrenched upwards in a slow, smooth motion. The rope was pulled taut forcing her to first stand up straight, then stand entirely on her tip toes. He had been right. This was not the most comfortable position Ana had ever found herself in. It was also, however, not the worst. She tried a few seconds to find the most comfortable position before Christian's voice returned.

"Go limp, Anastasia, the rope is soft and should cushion your wrists as much as possible. I promise you will not remain in this position long. I need to go greet our guest. I will be right back. When I return, I won't be alone."

Anastasia could not see but she felt it when Christian left the room, his presence had been comforting, and now she was alone. He had not bothered to tie her legs at all nor had he bothered to cinch the hood at the nape of her neck. Were she actually trying to escape, she could easily use her abs to swing her legs up to where her wrists were tied in order to tilt her head backwards and get the hood off. The ropes would pose their own problems but she would be able to hold herself high enough in that position to try to undo the knots with her teeth. That would give her her best opportunity for escape.. Once free,, she could use some of the equipment in the room to her advantage, take Grey by surprise. That's when she would get his finger for the fingerprint scanner. She would have to watch out for the body guard, Taylor…but if she could find out where they kept the guns…assuming there were guns in the palatial penthouse, she would be able to arm herself. It amused her to work through the scenario in her head. But more than anything, it helped her keep her skills sharp. She never knew when she would need them.

She strained to hear out of the hood. The air under the leather was warm and stale and it was already causing her to sweat. She thought she heard the sound of a door shutting, but she couldn't be sure. Then…footsteps, two pairs. It was show time. She waited, remaining slumped in her bindings, head down. Listening.

The door opened and Ana felt Christian's presence re-enter the room. He wasn't alone.

"Miss Winters," He was speaking louder than necessary and Ana was pretty sure it was her benefit "Welcome to my playroom."

"Thank you for taking the time for me today, Mr. Grey, Sir. Ms. Lincoln was quite adamant I get to work on this project immediately and I – oh! Oh my!" The stylist, a young woman judging from the sound of her voice, had clearly seen Ana, strung up as she was, hood over her head, and lost her train of thought.

Grey chuckled in response to the stylist's shock. "It's not a problem, Miss Winters. I know how Ms. Lincoln likes to get her way. Wake up, Pet! We have company." Grey raised his voice again. Ana could hear him clearly through the hood. She raised her head slightly in response to indicate that she'd heard him. She felt Grey's presence as he circled her.

"Sh-she's erm…stunning, Mr Grey, Sir." The designer stammered, at a loss for words. Ana heard Grey chuckle again.

"You should see her face, Miss Winters. A little worse for the wear right now of course, but she's learned not to spit" Ana felt Grey near her as he circled around to the front of her body again. In the next instant he had removed the hood, true to his word, she had not needed to endure the hood long and he'd managed to make removing it look natural. Ana blinked and squinted as her eyes re-adjusted to the light of the room. Her eyes found Grey's, he had a mask in place –she could not read what kind of emotion he was feeling at this point. She cast her vision downward, focusing in a point just below his chin. She heard the stylist's sharp intake of breath and knew that the woman had seen the faux bruising on her face.

"We have a visitor, Pet. You will obey Miss Winters…"his hand moved as he spoke and he cupped her chin, tilting her head up to look him in the eyes before jerking her sharply to turn her attention to the stylist. The stylist looked like she was in her early twenties, and more than a little out of her depth. Ana wondered why the girl would be complicit in the forced sexual slavery of others when she was clearly uncomfortable with it when it faced her head on. The girl was doing her best not to look at Ana directly, shuffling from one foot to the other, her body language speaking volumes about her discomfort.

Grey jerked her head back and suddenly she was caught in his steely gaze again, his jaw was set, all humor gone from his visage. "Do not…embarrass me."

"Yes, Master.." Ana kept her voice meek, subdued. Grey stepped back from in front of her again and gestured to the stylist.

"She's all yours, Miss. Winters. No need to be gentle, if you'd like to play with her a little, I've got a few new floggers if you would like to give them a whirl." His tone was mocking, cold. The girl audibly swallowed.

"Uh n-no Sir…Th-thank you. I- I will just need her measurements and I will be on my way." The stylist approached then, still hesitant. Ana kept her head bowed, saying nothing. Grey's little ad-lib had not amused her. She was trying to keep her temper in check when the girl spoke next.

"Mr Grey, Sir. I-if you could untie her, I can take her measurements more precisely. The outfit I am designing for you requires very specific measurements or it will not fit."

Grey huffed in apparent exasperation or boredom.

"Very well." He moved toward Ana again and quickly unhooked her wrists from the grate in the ceiling, lowering Ana so that she was once again flat on her feet.

"Th-thank you Sir," The stylist stuttered and immediately pulled out a small notepad and cloth measuring tape. She moved to Ana's front and waited until she had Ana's attention.

"Please stand like this, with your arms out." She was more comfortable in her professional persona, ignoring Ana's half-nakedness and bruising and instead focusing on her task at hand. She stood arms out to either side or legs wide. Ana mimicked the girls positioning exactly. Immediately the stylist went to work, measuring Ana's wrist circumference, her neck, her forearm length, circumference, shoulder width, back length, chest width, mid-section, and hips, her upper thigh circumference, her legs, and finally her calves. She worker efficiently and silently, jotting her notes down in her pad as she went. It took her less than ten minutes to take Ana's measurements and when she was done she hurriedly began packing her things back up. She clearly did not want to spend any more time in their presence than she had to. Ana found that curious and wondered again why the girl had agreed to the task in the first place.

"I have everything I need Sir. Thank you for your time. " The stylist practically curtsied to Grey. Ana fought hard to keep her eyes from rolling. Grey sauntered over to the girl, draping one arm around her casually as he escorted her from the room.

"Not at all, the pleasure of your charming company Miss Winters is always welcome" He practically drawled as they reached the door to the hallway.

"Position number 4, when I return, Pet." He quipped loud enough So Ana knew the command was directed at her. He shut the door behind him and Ana heard the lock slide into place. His arm had still around the mousy stylist when they left. Ana did not like the way watching him flirt with the young girl made her feel . She did not like that it made her feel anything, let alone this hot jealous pit in her stomach, she most certainly did not like that.

And since Ana had no idea what Position number 4 was, she assumed that Grey would not be returning with company. Never the less, she thought it best to play it safe, so she kneeled on the section of the floor that was in the middle of the room. She let her clothing off, clad only in her panties, and placed her hands palm up on the backs of her thighs, tilting her head down in a standard submissive kneel. She waited like that for roughly 5 minutes before she heard the door to the playroom open again. She did not look up, but she knew it was him when he entered. And she knew he was alone.

He did not speak to her immediately, and Ana was briefly not even sure if he's seen her. He walked past her to the armoire in the room and quickly opened the drawer where he'd placed her clothes earlier. He pulled them out and approached her. He knelt and placed the clothes in front of her, and quickly stood back up.

"You may get dressed now, Anastasia." He stood back. Ana took her clothes, tentatively standing up while pulling on the over-sized t-shirt. She pulled the pajama bottoms on next, and then stood awkwardly, waiting for Grey's next command. She stole a glance at him, noticing that he had his head turned away from her, like he was ashamed.

"Are you alright, Anastasia?" He asked, and Ana sensed his fear at her answer.

"Yes Sir…I'm alright." She answered immediately, hoping to appease his guilt. "Thank you.." She added as an afterthought. He was risking much for her and she still did not entirely understand why. Grey looked at her then, slate-colored eyes wide in a little shock was quickly hidden behind the mask,

"Very well." He nodded, and Ana heard him swallow back whatever emotion he was struggling to keep in check."I have some work I must attend to this afternoon, the penthouse is safe for you to explore, there is a library and game room downstairs, as well as a media room. Please keep yourself occupied. I will have dinner delivered this evening." He turned and fled the playroom, and Ana wondered not for the first time during their exchange what was eating at him so.

Grey was troubling. And the way he was making her feel was even more so. She needed to take her mind off him for a while and him being occupied with work gave her the perfect excuse to gather intelligence. She would focus on her job- and that would help calm this nervous pit in her stomach and take her mind off the way Grey's eyes darkened when he looked at her, and the arousal she felt underneath his gaze.

'No, Ana.' She scolded herself, 'this is not why you are here. Do the job. This is just a job. Stay focused.'

 _Stay Focused Annie._

Even as Ray's voice guided her, Grey's eyes haunted her thoughts. She needed to be careful.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey everybody. I'm attempting to revive this story from the dead. Unfortunately- 60-70 hour work weeks have made it more difficult for me to devote any energy to creativity. I can say I have the next portion after this already written so it wont be a year before the next update. I promise!**

* * *

After they left the playroom, Grey had excused himself, saying he had work he needed to attend to. He suggested Ana use the time to get dressed and become acquainted with the penthouse and relax before dismissing her. She would not be relaxing, but she was eager to get to know the penthouse, and there for her would-be captor a little better.

When Ana returned to her bedroom the closet was filled with a variety of outfits, all expensive and classy, not at all what Ana would have expected for a supposed slave's wardrobe to entail.

She rifled through the dresses, skirts, blouses, and slacks, marveling at the expense and taste her would-be captor had. This seemed an unnecessary extravagance, given her current position and that the plan was she would not last in his lifestyle for more than 3 months. Ana wondered why Grey would bother with the pretense. She also noted that the man's tastes leaned toward chic dresses and skirts on his women. She huffed at that and selected a pair of skinny denim jeans and a form-fitting black blouse. The material was light and provided the movement she would need if she had to fight She didn't think she would need to, but it was always best to be prepared.

Ana had to admit it was nice to have real clothes on, the pajamas were starting to make her feel more like a vagabond then an agent. She was grateful for the new wardrobe, even if she did not entirely understand it.

Once dressed, Ana ventured out of her room and decided to do as Grey had suggested and explore the apartment. Her bedroom was on the second floor of the massive penthouse at the end of a long corridor. She checked each of the additional doors, 2 more guest bedrooms, each filled with top-of-the-line furniture and designed impeccably, if impersonally, with minimalist, chic furniture. The bedrooms each had an ensuite bathroom, and there was another separate bathroom that opened to the hallway. That made four bathrooms in this wing of the apartment, alone.

At the far end of the hallway was a closed-off great room, there was a large television and comfortable-looking leather sofas provided ample seating room. The room was equipped with surround sound, and the large television was hooked up to a cable box, a DVD-player, and each of the latest video gaming systems. Ana grinned to herself as she touched the Xbox One on the stand in passing. Grey had not struck her as the gamer-type. On the far wall of the media room, there were shelves of movies, and games, everything organized immaculately. Not even a remote-control was out of place. She once again wondered if Grey actually used this room or if it was just for show.

Perhaps he had had the room set up for his would-be slaves. He'd told Ana to entertain herself while he worked, perhaps he expected her to plunk herself down on one of the sofas and zone out on a romantic comedy or two while conveniently forgetting the reality of her situation until he was ready for her again. Is that what his previous girls had done? Had they thanked their lucky stars while watching Ryan Gosling proclaim his undying love for some doe-eyed young thing? Ana had to scoff at that, did Grey really think a woman in her situation could just tune out what had been done to them and relax?

Ana left the media room the way she had found it – untouched. She made her way to the stairs and down to the main floor of the penthouse. The great room was still clean and orderly, barely lived in, the dining room immaculate and unused, the large chef's kitchen was something out of a magazine, yet Grey did not cook, and Mrs. Jones was now nowhere to be found. He'd mentioned that he'd instructed her to "make herself scarce" the next couple of days and Ana was not entirely sure what the woman's hours were or how Grey managed to instill so much trust in her ability not to give him away.

Downstairs, there was another hallway that led to what Ana assumed must have been Grey's Master bedroom. When he'd tested the double-door entry to the room, however, it was locked. She was sure she could find something in the penthouse to pick the lock with but she figured she would give Grey his privacy for now and moved on. Greys "playroom" was also down this corridor. It too was locked but Ana had seen all she needed to in there before. There was another game room, this one held a cozy looking sofa, a pool table, and an entire wall of books, all ordered alphabetical by author. Greys tastes were very varied, if these were his books –Tolstoy to Rowling.

Ana ventured back into the kitchen and the great room, which remained breathtaking with its views of the Seattle skyline. She venture through the room to the last unexplored corridor of the penthouse. Another guest bedroom, and bathroom, storage and linens, nothing out of the ordinary. At the end of the hallway was another shut door. Through the crack of the door, Ana could see that there was a light on. This, Ana presumed, must have been Grey's office. He'd said he had some work to do this afternoon. Ana wondered just what, exactly, he was working on. She crept closer to the closed door, remaining as silent as possible. She remembered Grey's impeccable hearing from the night before and did not want to alert him to her presence.

Through the door, she could hear the clacking of fingers on a keyboard. He was a fast typist, from the sound of it. The phone rang and she heard his voice answer immediately.

"Grey," She heard him say . There was a pause before he spoke again, "Dr. Flynn, what a pleasant surprise." Ana caught the distinct whiff of sarcasm in Grey's tone through the door.

"Oh he did, did he? Well, my brother should learn to keep his mouth shut." Another pause. Grey mentioned his brother a lot, Ana wondered what Grey's counterpoint's role was in all of this. And she wondered who this Dr. Flynn was, was he a fellow slaver? She filed the name away for future investigation.

"Yes, that is correct. I did acquire a new girl this weekend. No, I do not believe it is 'too soon.' And yes, I am, as always Dr. Flynn, aware of the risks." Grey pauses again, he sounded exasperated.

"I don't know, yet…" He paused, "I don't know, yet." He answered again then paused. "John, the girl's been here 3 days, she's still getting over the drugs they pumped into her. Elena Lincoln has been breathing down my neck ever since the auction, and believe it or not, I still have a company to run so please forgive me if I haven't gotten to know her entire life's story!" Grey was raising his voice slightly, Ana could hear him clearly through the door now. He was aggravated and on edge. She thought she heard the rolling of a chair, he was up and pacing now. She decided to retreat, lest she be caught eavesdropping.

Ana moved quickly back down the hall and into the great room. She checked the clock in the kitchen, it was well past lunch time. An idea struck her. She rifled through the refrigerator and the pantry. Both were quite well-stocked for a man who did not cook. She wondered how he managed when his Mrs. Jones took a holiday. She found the ingredients she needed and set to work.

Ten minutes later, Ana had two neatly-crafted turkey sandwiches on a plate. She tucked two water bottles under her arm and took the plate in her right hand. Christian had not yet ventured forth from his office and Ana was tired of waiting.

Ana moved through the hall back to Christian's office, sandwiches in hand. She paused just briefly – the room was quiet again, save for the clacking of fingertips on a keyboard. It sounded as though he was off the phone. Ana reminded herself of her persona, then gently knocked on the door. She heard the shuffling of papers, and a chair moving across the wooden floor before-

"Come in." Grey's voice was a little gruff- as if he'd been taken by surprise and was trying to hide it.

Ana entered the room cautiously, keeping her gaze slightly averted and adopting the meek, insecure tone she knew Grey responded to.

"I thought you might be getting hungry, Sir…so I made sandwiches." She set the plates down on a cleared spot on his desk and presented him with the water before standing off to the side, as if unsure of where to go. She saw a brief look of uncertainty in Grey's eyes as he looked from the sandwiches to her and back again. He recovered quickly and checked his watch.

"I didn't realize how late it had gotten…thank you, Miss Steele. Though you are by no means required to serve me like this. I would not expect you to – I am perfectly capable of feeding myself." As if on cue, Grey's stomach made a low-key gurgle noise. Ana let herself giggle in response. Grey frowned in embarrassment.

"I didn't mind, really" Ana assured him, "I like keeping busy." She made a show of looking awkward where she stood as she looked around Grey's Office. Like the rest of the apartment, it was immaculate, and minimalistic in its décor. Grey's desk was utilitarian, with a monitor, keyboard, and laptop docking station neatly arranged atop.

"I know the feeling," Grey replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. He was watching her, her gawky movements seemed to endear her to him. She gave him a shy smile to really kick things into gear.

"I um... I hope you like turkey, I wasn't really sure but the deli meat was in your fridge so I…"

"I enjoy all foods, Miss Steele." He interrupted her, still with that hint of amusement in his tone. "Turkey sandwiches are…a classic. My office, however is not the greatest in terms of ambiance. Would you join me in the great room for lunch, Miss Steele? I think it's time we get to know each other better."

Ana could not have agreed more.

* * *

"Tell me about yourself, Miss Steele."

Grey sat across from her in the great room, his legs crossed, his demeanor relaxed. His turkey sandwich was half eaten and he was looking at her expectantly. Telling Grey about herself was not what Ana had had in mind. She wanted to pick his brain. Get into his inner-workings, understand why he did the things he did. She needed to know more about this world of his.

Instead, Grey seemed to have taken a keen interest in getting to know _her_ better. She wasn't sure why, and she didn't feel like going over her entire backstory with this man, particularly when it was not real to begin with. She shifted in her seat, picking at her sandwich before responding.

"I-I don't know, there's not much to say really…Erm…" She trailed off, looking down at her lap.

"Oh come now, Miss Steele. Don't sell yourself short. You are fascinating."

Ana could feel Grey's hot gaze on her, she was going to have to give him something.

"…Fascinating? Sir?" She looked up and let herself be caught by those gun-metal eyes of his; heat rose to her cheeks. He smirked at her in response.

"Oh yes….You confound me, Miss Steele. Your confidence comes in fits and rages. Taylor tells me that you charged at him the first night you were here. And that you looked like you thought you might be able to take him. That was very brave, if not foolish, of you Anastasia, you are…dauntless. And then there are times when you can't seem to look me in the eye. Why is that?"

Ana did not know how to respond to that. She told herself the effect she let him think he had on her was all an act, but if she was honest, her body betrayed her. She was attracted to him – and it was causing more problems than it was worth.

"I…" She trailed off and bit her lip, only half thinking about how she knew his eyes would follow the action. It worked. She saw his eyes darken in response.

"I pride myself on knowing what makes people tick, Anastasia, and I've known you a matter of days now yet you still confound me. You challenge me, you sass me, you give me these exasperated looks, and then other times you obey without question." Grey continued, "You continue to surprise me, Miss Steele. You flirt, and then withdraw into yourself. You are brave when you have to be, then timid when I least expect it, I cannot get a good handle on who you are, Anastasia, and it is fascinating."

"Who I am? I'm just…me." Ana replied rather lamely. She was off her game with Grey – he was seeing through some of her tactics. But she had a way she could spin this with him that she knew would catch him hook, line, and sinker. "You…you make me feel safe- and I'm…Well, I'm not really used to that."

Grey quirked an eyebrow at her. She had him intrigued but he was clearly waiting for her to elaborate.

"I…well…I've never really had that, you know? That safe feeling. My mother died when I was…very young. My father was…away in the military at the time, I guess he was MIA and they couldn't reach him, so I was placed into foster care." Ana paused her story, as if collecting herself. In truth she needed a moment to remember her back story, to make sure it ticked the right boxes and would correspond with her falsified background check the agency had provided.

"I don't remember a lot from when I was little but I think I was happy, at least in the beginning. The family I was with had wanted children but couldn't have any of their own, so they fostered. But they ran into trouble financially and started fighting- they broke up – decided they didn't want their neat little foster family any more…After that I moved around a lot." She made a show of looking away from him, swallowing hard before she continued.

"When I was 15 – I was fostered by this older couple. I thought it seemed like a pretty good place, you know? They had been married 20 years, never had any kids of their own, financially stable…perfect family on paper… " She trailed off again and shuddered dramatically.

"Were they not?" Grey prompted gently.

"They were not." Ana confirmed, but did not elaborate. She remembered her own mother- the crack-addled mess of woman who sold her own daughter into a life of prostitution and pain for a quick fix. She wondered if the woman had ever regretted her actions. The emotions bubbled to the surface, real and unbridled. Angry tears filled Ana's eyes, she tried to blink them away but a few tears fell. This was not lost on Grey.

In the next instant he presented her with a tissue.

"You do not have to tell me about them, Miss Steele. But I do think it might help you to talk to someone. I have a friend- a psychiatrist whom I trust implicitly. He has asked to see you, when you are ready. He understands the toll this kind of experience can take on a person's psyche. He has helped others in the past and I think he can help you."

That was precisely what Ana did not need, a trained psychoanalyst watching her every move and word. She was good, but she didn't want to have to prove she was _that_ good. She shrugged her shoulders and looked away from Grey in response.  
"Do…do I have to?" She asked, deliberately making the question sound child-like in nature, hoping to appeal to Grey's alpha-male ego.

"No Miss Steele. You do not have to. Not right now anyway, but I do believe it would benefit you. I want you to think about it. Okay?"

"Okay." She agreed, though she had no intention of actually doing so. She wanted more info about him. She did not want to give him any more info about her. "May I ask you a question, Sir?"

"It seems only fair, Miss Steele." Grey's response was stilted, formal. He did not want to answer questions, but Ana was not going to let him get away so easily this time.

"Why…why are you helping me? You said you had your reasons. But…what are they? You're rich – you could…go to the police- have them take care of this- put a stop to the entire thing once and for all. Why don't you?"

"There are things you don't understand, Miss Steele." Grey adopted a condescending tone with his non-answer. It made Ana bristle.

"Then why don't you help me to understand?" She challenged. He turned back to her and quirked an eyebrow.

"There's that sass of yours, Miss Steele." He admonished. He was still avoiding her questions. She let herself blush and broke eye contact.

"I just meant….I might be able to help – like –I could even tell the cops myself that you helped me – and that-"

"You will _not._ You cannot, Anastasia. This is bigger than your or I. I cannot change the world Anastasia, I can only do what little I do without being discovered. You will be safe, but there are others I have to think about – their safety, as well as yours, hinges on my ability to remain undetected. Tell me you understand." There was an edge to Grey's voice, almost as though it was tinged with fear. Ana didn't understand.

"But why. You're rich, and powerful, and smart. Why are you so scared? How did you get involved with these people in the first place?" She pressed. Grey sighed long and loud in response before pinching the bridge of his nose, Ana recognized his frustration. He did not like being pressed any more than he liked difficult questions. His patience with her obstinacy was wearing thin but she didn't care.

"This isn't some cartel, or secret society, Anastasia, it won't be so easily destroyed. This is an Empire. And my father is the Emperor." Grey's voice was hard, cold, and angry. His body was tense and his jaw set. He did _not_ like this topic of conversation. But this was the first time Ana had been able to get any solid intelligence out of him and she wasn't about to let up now.

"You're….father? What do you mean? How deep does this go? How could one man build something like this? Is he Mafia? Are YOU mafia?" She made herself sound equal parts awed and frightened, hoping it would mask her excitement at this new revelation. She knew there was a ringleader to this operation, she would never have dreamed she would be able to get this close to him, to have his son as an ally. Grey didn't think that the police would help, and he was right – but she was not police. And when she got back to her base she _would_ have the resources to bring these monsters down. Grey stood up from the sofa where he'd been sitting so close to her before

"I don't want to talk about this now." He declared, pacing away from her and out of the living room. She stood and followed after him. She was losing him and she need to reel him back in.

"Wait! Please- I just want to understand!" She caught up to him, reaching out to grab him by the arm. He jerked away from her touch immediately, spinning around on her and catching her by the wrist in a bruising grip – his reflexes were amazing. She attempted to pull away, but he held firm, pulling her closer to his body suddenly and without warning. his grey eyes were flashing, menacing. Ana let herself whimper, lowering her gaze and keening pitifully.

"I-I'm sorry Sir!" She let herself squeak, biting back her anger at being manhandled by the billionaire. He released her almost as immediately as he had grabbed her, regret crossing his features.

"I'm sorry Anastasia. I should not have…" He cut himself off and looked away from her, his shoulders slumping. "I should not have touched you like that, are you alright?" He kept his tone deliberate, not looking her in the eye. He was still tense.

"Y-You said you would answer my questions…I was only trying to…' Ana deliberately trailed off as if lost in thought, prodding him to answer her.

"You are right. I did say that. You did nothing wrong Anastasia, I did. And I sincerely apologize. " He still wasn't looking at her. "Are you alright?" He asked again. There was shame in his voice

"Are you angry with me, Sir?" She asked. She knew he wasn't. She was deliberately not answering his question He was easier to read than she'd initially suspected.

"No, Anastasia. I am sorry if I frightened you. These topics are not easy for me to discuss. I reacted poorly." Grey was regaining control over his emotions, closing himself back up. Hiding the raw, frightened, overly emotional animal that lay beneath the cool and collected surface.

"Please." She kept her voice breathy, an almost desperate quality to it. "I want to understand you. My life is in your hands and I still don't know why you are helping me."

"You wanted to know why I do not go to the police. But the police cannot help, no one can. The people involved are _too_ smart, _too_ rich, _too_ powerful, and _too_ well-connected. I was born into this life, Anastasia. This….fucked up world is all I've ever known. There is no way out, not for me. My father is Carrick Grey, he is the most powerful business attorney in the Pacific Northwest, he is the reason I am who I am, and he is the fucked-up visionary who created this cheery little hell…." Grey paused, looking at her directly again. He was making a determination, Ana bit her lip averting her gaze. He let out a long, pained sigh. He'd made a decision.

"Come with me, Anastasia. I want to show you something."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I am already working on the next installment. I am sorry this is a bit of a shorter chapter but I wanted to post now instead of making you wait. The next chapter should be coming soon :) As always, thank you for reading!**

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Christian Grey led Ana by the hand out of the great room. She was not sure at first where he was taking her until he moved down the hallway that led to his personal bedroom, the one room in the penthouse she'd not seen yet. He paused outside the door briefly and turned to her, his grey eyes assessing her shrewdly. He looked like he was making his mind up about something. Finally he nodded, more to himself than to her. His decision made, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his set of keys, unlocking the door to his bedroom.

He opened the door and gestured for her to enter first. She did so and he entered as well, shutting the door behind them. His bedroom was easily the size of most studio apartments by itself, immaculately decorated like the rest of the apartment in chromes and blacks and whites. A kind-bed adorned the center of the room, and a small sofa sat in the corner of the room. The far wall was all windows, like in her room, and the view of the Seattle skyline was truly spectacular.

Still, there was nothing extraordinary about the bedroom and she was not entirely sure why he brought her here. She turned around to look at him, the unspoken question all over her face. He did not address her right away instead moving to his chest of drawers. He pulled open the left drawer. Inside, a tie box with an array of silk ties organized all in shades of grey organized from darkest to lightest, unsurprisingly boring in his color-palette. Grey lifted the tie box up and out of the drawer, setting it on top of the chest of drawers. Underneath, hidden carefully, was a simple silver picture frame, faced down. He picked it up reverently and held it to his chest as he turned back to face her.

"You wanted to know why I am doing the things I am doing, Anastasia. You seem unwilling to accept my help without further explanation. This is not something I share with anyone. This is not something I want to share with you. But I do understand your reticence and desire to know more. I am trusting you with the information I am about to share." Every word out of his mouth felt forced, and deliberate. He was incredibly uncomfortable but he was forcing himself to continue anyway for her benefit. He lifted the picture frame from his chest and gazed down at it. Ana watched his facial features like a hawk. He looked anguished. He touched the photo in the frame briefly before taking a deep breath and handing it to her.

Ana took the photo gently, and looked down at it. Inside the frame, there were three people. Ana recognized a young teenager version of Christian Grey immediately. He looked bout 13 or 14 years old, his coppery hair a bit longer in the photo than it was now, his face somber and wearing a solemn frown. He was staring resolutely at the camera in the photo. To his left was a slightly taller boy, about 16, if Ana were to guess, blonde and with a more carefree smile gracing his relaxed features. He too was staring resolutely at the camera, his hand resting on the shoulder of a young girl who stood in front of and in-between the two boys. The girl had the biggest smile of the three, she looked no older than 10 or 11, her hair a dark brown, long and wavy, and her bright blue eyes looked almost too big for her face. She had one arm wrapped around Christian's legs, the other wrapped around the blonde boys. They were clearly close, the three of them, siblings if Ana had to guess, which meant that the blonde boy would be Elliot Grey, the ever-elusive brother that Christian had mentioned multiple times. The girl was a puzzle though, Grey had not once mentioned a sister. The photo, he kept hidden underneath his ties in a false bottom of his drawer instead of displayed anywhere where someone could admire it. This photo was special to him, but it only created more questions for her.

Ana looked up from the photo and back to Grey's face. He had the same solemn frown, almost a mirror image of the younger version of him she'd just been admiring in the photo.

"This is your brother Elliot?" She asked the easy question first, touching the image of the blonde and looking to him for confirmation. He nodded silently.

"And this is…." She trailed off, touching the image of the young girl next.

"That…was my Sister. Mia. Her name was Mia."

"Was...?" The past tense had not escaped her. She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, and the mystery that was Christian Grey was beginning to appear just a little clearer. But she wanted him to tell her.

Christian sighed and moved to the sofa in the room, sitting heavily. He gestured for her to sit as well. She did so, sitting on the edge of the bed, still holding the photograph. Once they were both seated, he spoke.

"My father had three children. My brother Elliot was born first his mother was my father's wife, she died in child birth unexpectedly we never knew her. I was born second, my mother was a slave and prostitute of my father's. I was not allowed to know her. I do not know what happened to her but I believe she too is dead. When I was 5 years old, and Elliot was seven, our sister Mia was born, her mother a low-level Mistress who had hoped to curry my father's favor by baring his third child. Her ploy had not worked, and when he refused to take her as his wife she attempted a short-lived coup and was killed as well. Mia knew none of this, of course."

"Mia was…a jewel. Elliot and I adored her. My father used to scold Elliot and me when we were young for doting on her too much. She was our princess. We were kids, you know, we knew what my father did and we knew his associates…but we didn't really _know…._ Not really, not until we were older. And that's when things got… bad. "

"My father wanted heirs, he wanted an empire. When Elliot was 14 and I was 12, he made us watch him whip and then rape a girl about your age, Anastasia. He told us to watch and to learn. He called her cattle. Said all slaves just needed to be broken, and we were to learn how to break them too. So we could lead in his wake. After he was finished with her, he made Elliot and me each take a swing at her with a flogger. Elliot cried. I… I did as my father asked. "Christian looked away from her then, his brow furrowed. His eyes glazed over, he was clearly lost in the memory.

"Elliot and I grew much more distant after that. He actively rebelled against my father's wishes. Or else did the bare minimum my father asked. I …I excelled. I was good at it…I liked it…I think." He shuddered, clearly disturbed by his past actions.

"Mia was still too young, too innocent to know anything had changed. When Elliot was 16 and I was 14, my father took us to our first auction. I remember looking at the people who were brought in not as victims, but…but as commodities. My father was pleased. Elliott was disgusted. It wasn't until later, in private, when Elliott and I talked that I thought maybe it was wrong."

"When Elliot turned 18, my father threw him a birthday party. His present that year was his own personal slave, giftwrapped and everything. Elliott was furious, but he had no choice but to accept, and to perform, show his gratitude in front of the other Masters and Mistresses in attendance at the party. Mia and I were both required to attend…she was…11 at the time. That party was to be Mia's introduction to our world.

"My father wanted Mia to follow in our footsteps. He wanted her to be a Domme. But she… she just didn't have it in her. He tried the same tactics he'd used with my brother, with me…but Mia couldn't manage. She was uncoordinated, she was docile, sweet. I don't think she had a single sadistic bone in her body – to ask her to cause someone else pain…. It went against her very nature" He shook his head, composing himself, and continued. "And as she grew, she grew into a beautiful young woman."

"When Mia turned 16, my father threw her the most extravagant birthday party I've ever seen. Elliot and I were required to attend, though Elliot had moved out of Seattle by then. Mia was dressed in this stunning Versace gown. I can still…still see her…? At 16, showing off her new dress, still so sweet even though you would think it impossible given the man who raised her."

"My father had always indulged in her fancies so it wasn't surprising that he'd go to these lengths for a birthday, but something felt off to me. I know Elliot sensed it too. Mia didn't have many friends outside my father's circle – None of us did – so most of the guests in attendance were other high-ranking Masters and Mistresses, friends of my father, acquaintances Elliot and I were forced to associate with in our business and private lives. No one I'd care to be alone in a room with if I could avoid it. The party air just felt…wrong for a teenager's birthday."

Christian took a breath to compose himself. He was still not looking at Ana.

"My sister's 16th birthday was the day my father decided to disown her. She couldn't be what he wanted. So he was going to make her suffer. He…Elliot and I tried to stop them, we tried to protect Mia, we did…but there were too many of them…My father allowed them to tear Mia's dress to shreds, to string her up…punish her, while he forced my brother and I to watch. And I…I couldn't…I couldn't save her."

Christian paused again then. It was as if he wanted the words to come but couldn't force them out. Ana could see the tears in his eyes when he looked out the window at the Seattle skyline.

"After that night my father had Mia sold at auction. It took me 6 months to track her down. Elliot was beside himself. When we did finally find her it was worse than we'd hoped. She'd been sold to a sex club in the Czech Republic. Elliot and I flew out as soon as we were able. We were lucky. The club owners didn't know who we were. We were rich, and we were American, and we wanted to make a purchase. We got Mia out of there but we couldn't take her home." Christian sighed long and hard.

"We knew it wouldn't be safe for her in Seattle, so Elliot set up offices for his construction company in Paris , under the guise of expanding his business. We set Mia up with a false identity, as a French citizen living there. She was the first….she was the first victim of my father's I wanted to help – and I helped her too late. I should have done more sooner. I should never have let him do what he did….After Mia, I knew I couldn't go along with his wishes anymore."

'Elliot and I have a system now. He lives abroad primarily, returning to Seattle only when Father demands it. We each have our roles to play, I am my father's heir apparent, and Elliot is more the black sheep, though he is still considered a high ranked Master under my father, which grants him certain protections. We do not speak of Mia. Ever. But she is safe. And her safety is dependent on my ability to go undetected. I cannot go to the police, my father owns the police. If what I was doing got out, in any way, it would lead them back to her, and I have vowed that no more harm will come to her. Ever. Do you see now, Anastasia, why I cannot do more? This game we are playing is far too dangerous for all parties involved. And I am sorry, I am sorry that this may seem callous, but I will not risk my sister's safety for anyone or anything."

Ana was speechless. She looked at the man sitting before her, then back down to the photograph in her lap, then back to the man. He was raw, and tense. She stood from where she'd sat perched on his bed and approached him cautiously. She offered the photo back to him wordlessly and he took it returning it to the false bottom of the drawer before placing his tie box back over it, keeping it hidden and safe.

"If you will excuse me, Miss Steele. I have some work I need to attend to." Christian fled the room and she let him.

Ana was reeling. The story Christian told made her heart clench for the man, and his siblings. What they'd gone through. They were all slaves, trapped in lives they had not wished for and did not want. Carrick Grey was a sick man. He'd sold his own daughter into a life of pain and misery as a show of power. He'd forced his sons to commit atrocities for fear of the same fate. He was the ring leader, the high master, the organizer. He was the lynch pen. And Ana wanted nothing more than to take him out herself.


End file.
